Chapter 157: The War for Param.

 

“Nuée.”

 

Viv’s spell traveled over the heavies with a loud whomp, then the thick dark ball expanded in a malicious cloud of devouring miasma. The ravenous fog traveled across the plane with a terrible hiss, leaving behind nothing but half-voided corpses. To her left, a beautiful cloud of moisture covered the allied ranks with a calming mist. A quick glance revealed where the water came from. An entire company of Neleti had been turned into so many desiccated corpses, and yet, it didn’t matter. New squads sprinted over the distance, impaling themselves against the heavies with desperate fury. The men held their ground with grime determination, yet even their formidable armor could not protect them entirely. Blood was spilled.

 

The savagery of the foe left Viv flabbergasted. Gone were the methodical attacks and breaks of before. Now, the strange lizard beings assaulted her army relentlessly and the focus of their hatred was clearly and concerningly, her. There wasn’t a single moment of respite for the One Hundred. Every enemy that fell was instantly replaced by a fresh one. At least, they could not cycle-charge into her ranks.

 

“Dammit.”

 

Viv interrupted her next spell when she saw the arcing forms of crimson divine spells heading straight for them. All of them. The siege engines spew flames across the skies.

 

“Need some support there,” Viv said.

 

The spell arrays were several hundreds of meters away and she wouldn’t have the opportunity to do anything but defend.

 

“On it,” Sidjin said.

 

“Calibrations complete,” a voice clicked.

 

The first yries projectiles launched, much faster than spell. They crashed against a blood-colored shield without much success. Soon, she had problems on her own.

 

“Aspect of the Guardian.”

 

Her first interception spell split the enemy attacks without breaking them. They fragmented, yet they could not be made to change course. They would land where Viv was and that was it. It was their fate to collide, it seemed.

 

//Your Majesty!

 

“I got it! I got it!”

 

Viv was forced to use Durandal spells at point blank range, the aspect shortening her range. She managed to detonate most of them but the rest hit the huge shield, sending drifting shockwaves across its surface. Viv replaced the damaged segments as fast as she could. The pressure increased dramatically while her reserves melted. She was forced to pick apart attacks designed to land no matter what. Her focus narrowed until the battle faded from her perception. There were only shimmering hexes wrapped in divine mana aimed at her, not the place she was, not the tank, her specifically. Viv peeled off the spells and broke it apart in a contest of will between her and the Nemeti’s unshakeable belief that she should not exist. With so much of their mana above her, she could almost taste their horror, their rage at her nature. The duel continued and she realized she was losing ground. More and more damage accumulated on the array. The Nemeti were going through her aspected defense by throwing everything they had.

 

And then, the assault lessened a little. Her focus broadened until she saw servants coughing and holding their throats, the siege weapons discarded. Sidjin’s answer manifested as a portal blinking into existence next to another pair of arrays. The portal closed almost immediately, leaving behind a small sphere hovering above the ground, which the Nemeti fled from in an instant. It wasn’t enough. Unfurling like a flower, a transparent grinder pasted everything in a thirty meters radius including servants and several machines. So, that was what he’d been working on, Viv realized. She realized he had just created a mid-range attack that went through shields.

 

She’d have to steal it somehow.

 

The pressure decreased and her shield regained its luster. Unfortunately, that was not the end of Viv’s woes. More reinforcements were rushing in from over the horizon, confirming what the Hallurian speaker had said. Now that some of the Nemeti had made contact, they would converge like flies drawn to a wound. There was blood on the water and they were here for it. This was merely the beginning.

 

“Brace!”

 

In front of the One Hundred, a large gap had formed. The distant, hooded figure had regained control of his troops and now she had to contend with his intellect as well. Cavalry was massing ahead of the thin line of spears and Viv didn’t dare release her aspect lest the spells still falling towards her might still pierce her defenses.

 

“The knees,” Poacher screamed, “Get their fucking knees! KNEES!”

 

The marksmen commander rallied her troops. Feathered bolts lanced the scaly legs of the Nemeti mounds as they gathered, many falling before the attack could start. A part of Viv knew this was a lot of ammo, more than they could spare, but they had no choice. She had to rely on them now. It was their war as well.

 

Needled and exposed, the Neteli mounted riders charged before they could truly form up. Three-meter tall, velociraptor-mounted warriors were still a terrible sight to behold. And she couldn’t help. There were still too many incoming spells.

 

“Tighten the formation! BRACE FOR CAVALRY,” Ban roared.

 

As one, the heavies raised their spears up and planted their shields down. The back ranks placed their hands on the shoulders of those before them while the markswomen fired nonstop. The velociraptor’s skull plating made killing blows difficult despite the crossbows’ penetrating power. Viv suspected a skill was involved.

 

“Cross fire,” Poacher ordered. “Right to left, left to right. Get them!”

 

Around Viv, the Sisters turned their weapons at an angle, attacking in diagonal where the eyes were exposed. Ululating warcries rose when their quarrels found tender flesh. The charge collapsed because the mounts kept dying, blocking those who came behind. The effect on the Nemeti was devastating yet, if anything, the witchpatchs’ prowess only seemed to anger them further and the survivors still made for her with maddened determination. Fiery explosions bloomed across the struggling ranks, adding to the chaos. Rakan’s touch. He was coming to support her, but he wouldn’t be on time.

 

In clumps, the remnants of the cavalry assault fell on the heavies. Ban stood among his men. He lifted a battle standard displaying the black and white flag of his nation.

 

“Harrak eternal!”

 

Viv felt him come to life. Mana rushed through the lines and the One Hundred, normally silent, roared in defiance. Raptors claws fell on their shield and the monster pushed back the man, but not his companions. Feet dug in, hands holding shoulders, the line buckled and yet, despite the difference in weight and power, it didn’t break.

 

And then it bounced back.

 

Spears thrust up, skewering tender underbellies. The heavies hacked and punched through scales with steel fury and the riders died with their mounts, except for one. A large red specimen didn’t stay with his mount. Instead, he jumped up and above the heavies just as the charge came to a grinding halt.

 

Viv watched him, the beady, slitted eyes, the crimson scales, the stony armor above it. The Nemeti was easily twice as tall as she was and it was a mass of lean muscles. Two bolts jutted from his forearms yet he showed no signs of pain. Twin dark scythes descended on Viv.

 

She didn’t break the shield, only watching him impassively, because she knew she wasn’t alone.

 

At the apex of his jump, the Nemeti slowed, then as if tied to an elastic string, he was pulled back. His muscular body crashed on the ground between Viv and the heavies.

 

//NOT SO FAST.

 

Solfis released the creature’s heel. The two deadly combatants faced each other. Even the maddened Nemeti knew Solfis was not the sort of opponent one could ignore.

 

//I NEVER HAD A SKULL QUITE LIKE YOURS.

 

Viv didn’t listen to what the Nemeti spat back. She guessed he was one of the ruling class ones. If so, they were throwing a lot of assets in order to kill her. Her eyes searched the battlefield for what was happening. Sidjin was holding the right. His group had linked with Duke Falstag’s rough soldiers and now they anchored in a defensive position. Sidjin protected them by the expedient means of mincing anything he perceived as a threat. The enemy seemed to pace themselves as a result. In fact, the entire Baranese group had rallied and they were now advancing, covered by their archers and mages. More spells reached the Nemeti shields which forced their priests to focus on defense as well. On her left, Lana’s group was contracting and turning to prevent them from being flanked, denying the engagement. She was also turning the ground to mud at their feet which made charges that much more difficult. Nevertheless, the Children of the Scales was the most battered group.

 

It was really the center that was getting the most pressure.

 

Viv swore and focused on her defenses again. All the siege weapons were aiming at her and only at her. Some of the more armored Nemeti companies were rotating behind their lines to move towards her, larger creatures with giant hammers. They wanted her extra dead. She’d never felt so flattered before.

 

Despite the difficulties, pride filled her chest.

 

It was working.

 

Her setup was working. The tercios were functioning just the way she’d hoped. Right now, the Harrakans were out-performing everyone else and they were doing so with minimal casualties. So long as those shields were maintained, her people would make it. She just had to keep them up. It was all up to her.

 

If she died…

 

No, she wouldn’t. Not now. Too much depended on her. The Nemeti wouldn’t be so enraged if she wasn’t a threat. So she allowed herself one tiny smile, then she returned her full focus to keeping the shield up. For a moment, the stalemate was maintained which was costly for the Nemeti, but soon drums redoubled their sounds and the enemy disengaged.

 

“They’re going to charge again, Your Majesty,” Ban said. “We have to keep up with them.”

 

“But the markswomen…”

 

“Can still cover us well if we move up by thirty paces.”

 

“Alright.”

 

The One Hundred were the first to close the distance, preventing the Nemeti from charging again. Viv noticed they didn’t use their charge skill and she knew why. The day was nowhere close to finished and the men would tire quickly.

 

Infantry moved forward across the entire frontline. They ran down the slope to engage the retreating Nemeti while archer lines moved forward. The southerners were particularly effective in that. Viv heard great bellows coming from their ranks and the battle grew fiercer. The fight seemed to shake the Nemeti, somehow, and their fervor cooled. They were still determined.

 

The battle devolved into a brawl which the Nemeti were losing, badly, thanks to the Harrakan mages. Viv still focused on defense until the surviving siege engines withdrew after one more Sidjin-bomb teleport.

 

Soon after, something changed. The drums rolled again and their forces retreated slowly over the flatter ground. The Paramese couldn’t follow there. They would be overextended.

 

A mountain of bodies were left between the two armies. Horn signals and a few runners ordered the Harrakans to pull back. On their way, the witchpact recovered as many bolts as they could, finished off the enemy wounded and rescued everyone they could find. Camp followers soon appeared with pots of food, with squads taking turns to eat and drink. Many of the heavies sat where they were, eyes searching the horizon.

 

“What’s the ammo situation?” Viv asked Poacher.

 

“Got girls ferrying more bolts from the camp. At this rate we’ll go through all we have in two days.”

 

“Even if we recover lost bolts?”

 

“A day if we don’t.”

 

Dammit that was bad news. More bad news appeared on the horizon in the form of reinforcements. Groups of Nemeti arrived ready for battle, possibly having stopped in their camp to drop supplies. She noticed that a great many were also dragging dead away from the no man’s land between the armies. She knew what it meant. They were having a late lunch as well.

 

That cut her appetite.

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

Viv turned to see a runner, a young girl who had recently joined the temple as a healer.

 

“Yes?”

 

“We have a problem with our healers and the refugees. Brenna said not to worry and that they were on it and in the meantime, our wounded are being healed by servants of Enttiku who recently arrived. We just wanted to let you know.”

 

Viv remembered that Brenna was the leader of the temple healers. She was in charge of the Harrakan infirmary.

 

“What sort of problem?”

 

“I… I dunno, ma’am. She wouldn’t tell me.”

 

“Hmm. You may leave, thank you.”

 

Viv considered the message. Had she made a mistake? She supposed she would see soon enough. The Nemeti army was reaching critical mass again. Their numbers blotted the plain to the closest ridge and beyond in disciplined squares of ready fighters. She could feel the weight of twelve thousand pairs of eyes searching for her hated presence while the priests intoned instructions. She felt the intensity of their hatred. It wasn’t clear why they detested her so much. Perhaps she was dangerous, or perhaps her presence went against their outlook as Children of Fate. It wouldn’t surprise her if they saw her as a freak accident that needed to be erased.

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The drums beat again down in the valley. The Nemeti finished their preparations and soon, strange growls and hisses surged from their massed troops. They had split their cavalry in smaller groups now. There were also more squads of Nemeti wielding bolas, javelins, sometimes even stones. They were learning quickly but they still didn’t have an answer to the human casters. In fact, the siege machines were all hiding somewhere beyond the nearest ridge.

 

There were so many of them and yet more kept coming. Viv wondered exactly how many of the Nemeti were present at the beginning of the invasion for so many to be left after crossing Halluria, not to mention crossing the isthmus. It must have been an army of armies. A horde.

 

What was the Empire of Dawn and exactly how powerful was it? Viv hoped she wouldn’t have to find out any time soon. There were already enough of them advancing towards her position.

 

Viv watched the Nemeti slowly make their ways up the slope. When they were close enough, they charged into a devastating torrent of magic. This time though, more troops tried to turn them.

 

Viv lost herself in the flow of battle. While she ravaged any enemy in a cone in front of her, she was forced to pace herself in case the artillery engines returned. Worse, the rest of the casters were tiring. Sidjin, Rakan, and Lana had been fighting for hours and they were running on fumes. Only a trickle of spells still lashed at the Nemeti lines, mostly where the more dangerous elements converged. The air grew thick with the stench of smoke and the coppery notes of Nemeti blood.

 

The two armies danced a strange back and forth over the course of the next hour. The humans followed the Nemeti while they retreated to prevent another free charge. Sometimes, they would stand and fight. Other times, they retreated, leaving the humans to recover their arrows. By that point, only Viv’s spells still spread devastation though the Shrill made pinpoint attacks, sending hives to sting bola squads to death. On the third return, the human lines started falling back by order of Jaratalassi. The Harrakans still held the left flank and by then, Viv wasn’t sure the Children of the Scales would have time to withdraw if the line collapsed somewhere else. And then, just as the Nemeti were sprinting up the slope, horns rang.

 

Viv turned to watch a forest of spears exit from the pass, many-hued flags dancing in the wind. More horns came just as the Nemeti slowed down, unsure on how to proceed. The call of their drums grew more confused.

 

The distant shape of the red-robed Nemeti moved to a group of advisors and Viv knew that for them, it would be too late. With Duke Eikart at its head, the human cavalry charged down. First slowly, then with increased speed as they tightened their ranks and lowered their spears, the charge caught the Nemeti at the exact sweet spot when they were slowing down. Harrakan troops cheered when they recognized the black plates engraved with blue roses on their flanks. Rollo was leading the left wing.

 

The weirdest thing was that the Nemeti didn’t slow down. Instead of massing, they just kept running forward. It was as if they had never experienced a heavy cavalry charge. Perhaps, Viv realized, they hadn’t.

 

The Paramese cavalry made contact with predictable results. There was a terrible clash, cries of terrors and the furious, blaring call of horns when hundreds of knights made contact. For the first five seconds, they barely even slowed down. Barded horses mounted by expert warriors trained from childhood backed by advanced skills and the best gear skilled artisans could produce showed their worth and for a moment, it seemed the entire Nemeti army would collapse here and there. Viv didn’t receive the order to charge, however, so she didn’t. More wounded were ferried to the back. Everyone was taking time to recover.

 

Down in the valley, the robed figure finally regained control of his soldiers. He tried to cut the retreat of the cavalry by having squads close around them. Fortunately, Eikart and Jaratalassi easily saw through the ploy. They smoothly led their men back up. Once more, the Paramese alliance was left in control of the hill overlooking a mountain of cadavers.

 

Just as Viv was preparing a new series of spells, the drums rolled again and the enemy… left.

 

It was over for today.

 

***

 

Strangers worked in the Harrakan field hospital. Vi pushed back the sense of annoyance she felt at seeing unknown people on her territory, touching her more vulnerable people. It was misplaced. Those were servants of Enttiku doing their best to help as was their vow.

 

“How are things looking?” she asked the head priestess resting against a wall.

 

“Ah?” the woman replied, eyes glazed.

 

She shook her head and Viv caught tufts of messy black hair tucked under her cowl. The woman was clearly exhausted. She also smelled a little ripe, possibly due to wearing heavy robes in a warm tent at the edge of the desert. Now that she was looking around, quite a few of the bandaged men and women lying in their cots were sweaty.

 

“Oh yes, Lady Viv. Or was it Your Highness? Forgive me…”

 

“Lady Viv will do fine.”

 

“Yes. Greetings to you, milady. We have done what we could. Alas, sixteen of your people have ascended into the loving embrace of the goddess. The rest will make it.”

 

Viv bit her lips. It was probably not bad for a day of intense fighting. One of her earth teachers used to tell her that most middle age armies lost people to exposure, disease, and during routs. On Nyil, superhuman bodies and powerful healing magic offset the results to a great extent. Divine healers could repair damaged intestines or mangled livers in a day, not to mention soldiers surviving blood loss that would have killed any normal human. It was staggering. It was still sixteen people she’d led to their death. The elation she’d felt at the success of the tercios melted. On an intellectual level, she knew it was a worthy cause and she was at the front herself. On an emotional level, there would be funeral pyres tonight.

 

Viv buried her angst and resentment. She moved around the cots, greeting the wounded who were still awake and thanking the nurses of Enttiku for their work. Once she was done, she exited the tent to find Solfis and Zero Five looking around with vigilance.

 

“Guys?”

 

//Zero Five feels something.

 

“The shadows whisper. Blood will be shed tonight.”

 

“A surprise attack?”

 

“No,” Zero Five replied, shaking his bald head. “Some like us. Assassins.”

 

“Nemeti assassins?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“Fuck, I need to tell the other leaders.”

 

Viv sent a runner to the command tent but she didn’t go herself. Her first action was to go and find Lana.

 

“Yes?” the prim mage asked her at the entrance of her private quarters.

 

Lana didn’t have a single hair out of place. She looked like she was five minutes away from attending a function.

 

“I was wondering if you have any temperature control tools?”

 

“Of course, I do, as you know very well.”

 

“That was a rhetorical question leading to a request. Could you refresh the healers’ tent? It’s stuffy and I’d like everyone to be more comfortable. If that’s fine with you.”

 

“The hospital? Oh! Oh yes, I can help. And I can improve the hygiene as well. I shall gather supplies and help them by setting enchantments. An excellent initiative, Your Majesty. Was there anything else?”

 

“No, thank you. It will help.”

 

“I shall be there right away.”

 

There was one more place she needed to be. Asking around, she was directed to a remote camp by the forest surrounding the witch gate. Plumes of smoke rose above the improvised and unfortified camp. She walked there with an escort of One Hundred who didn’t take no for an answer, finding a pair of temple guards standing near the entrance. They tried to wave her away.

 

“What is going on?” she demanded.

 

“You can’t be here, milady. There is a plague!”

 

Viv frowned. A plague? A disease? Ban leaned towards her to whisper.

 

“Ma’am, if there is a magical plague and it escapes, the entire Paramese alliance will be at risk.”

 

That was, Viv realized, probably the plan all along.

 

Anger burned through her chest. Pure outrage locked her jaw as she struggled to maintain her composure. Those Nemeti had done that? The fuckers.

 

“You get back. Zero Five too. Solfis stays with me.”

 

“Your Grace?”

 

“I’m immune to diseases because I’m half-elemental.”

 

“What if you carry the disease with you?’

 

Viv tilted her head. He was right. She couldn’t get close.

 

But she could get above.

 

Viv used a spell to float around the camp at a decent distance. Many of the guards were currently asleep or resting with difficulty while those who could still stand kept guard. Some of the prisoners were helping by carrying water and cleaning around. She noticed the healers hard at work trying to keep both refugees and sick temple guards alike though she would have preferred if they kept their strength to hep their own people. When the prisoners spotted her, they regained those bovine expressions of empty adoration she had seen this morning, to her dismay. The healers were more subdued. Most of them meditated, trying to recover from the ordeals of the day. One of the shapes on a nearby bed turned out to be someone she was familiar with.