The first volley of arrows screams toward us, and in the same instant I activate Scarlet Barrier, a bulwark of clear ice erupts ahead of us.
When they impact, the ice cracks and buckles, but doesn’t fall apart. Three arrows, glowing like flares to show just how much power was invested into them, punch through the barrier outright.
One gets diverted and tossed aside by the wind of my barrier, but the other two strike true. Another detonates against my barrier, its thunderous payload joining the groan of splitting ice.
The last punches through my shoulder.
I grit my teeth against the twinge of pain.
“Nyx!”
He’s already gone.
Through the window of ice, I see the moment one of the healers’ guardians jerks its shield to the side, catching a crossbow bolt fired from some unseen angle.
I mentally curse at the failed sneak attack—
Then the bolt explodes.
The Fighter vanishes in a ball of fire, taking half of the Healers body with it before unleashing a torrent of shrapnel at everything around them. The other healer and their defender interposes itself between the conflagration and the healer, keeping at least that one alive.
For now.
The undead with its hand up near the front points at us, and the entire formation begins to move. There’s no roar or sounds of confirmation, just the steady thumping alarm and the metallic clatter of metal on metal as they move.
For a few moments, they seem to stall out in their advance as they trip over near invisible wires woven about their feet. But even when they fall, their allies hold them in place and continue to march.
Nyx, clearly doing his best, isn’t enough to stop such an organized force outright.
Cold mist begins to seep past my legs, crawling inexorably towards our newest opponents until a flash of lightning arcs into the ice, interrupting Bella’s attempted offense. She conjures two more walls, staggering each behind the first.
Then several more spells slam into the barriers—fireballs, lightning bolts, splashes of acid—forcing Bella to focus on adding layer after layer just to keep up. Just as she did against that phoenix girl.
But it only takes a glance to realize that she’s swiftly losing the exchange. Empowered volleys of arrows and green spears of fire and lightning smash into, and through, barrier after barrier.
And this is just the first volley. Once the front line reaches it…
The image of the walls crumbling under a flurry of spears and blades fills my mind, and for a moment I’m filled with dread.
Then rage.
Punish.
We need a change of pace more than anything. Chaos introduced to the organized violence. And I know that even as restricted as my mana is, I should be able to take just about any beating they can dish out.
Unless they destroy my soul too, somehow… but I can’t account for everything.
I move.
Snarling, I rip the arrow from my shoulder and dash around the barrier. All For One is pushed as high as I can get it, with Bloodmist Fist infusing each step to get me close to the front lines faster.
It doesn’t take long for some of the focus to shift my way. Sense Danger flares to life in every strange way it can, sending me various scents, sounds, and sensations as it tries to warn me of everything heading my way.
But there’s just too much to make sense of.
So I rely on my normal senses and instinct.
Even as I manage to dodge the majority of the attacks sent my way, several land. Arrows crack my blood-crystal shields, spells detonate with enough force to stagger, and just when I’m a few paces from my target, three bolts of lightning arc across the expanse towards me.
The first skitters around my barrier in a dazzling display of sparks and magic, shattering every remaining fragment of my barrier along the way. The instant I see the flash of light, I shift my regen out of All For One and into Arcane Regulation.
Just in time for the other two land unimpeded, locking me in place and scouring my very being with electrical fire. I stumble forward, seeing nothing but white and black and all but deaf to the world.
Not even the annoying alarm reaches me as I struggle to stay standing, much less moving forward.
Even with my pain perception reduced so much, the itch of my body’s rapid healing is completely unaltered.
And gods, does it suck.
But with Arcane Regulation giving me over 23,000 health regen per second, it doesn’t take long to fully recover.
The smell returns first, along with instant regret for its return.
By the time I’m done reeling from the stench, my hearing and vision return—the incessant alarm thumping in my skull once more.
And I see I’m just close enough to start causing problems.
Boom.
Another Scarlet Barrier flares into existence as four supercharged Blood Bursts detonate in sync, each placed as close to the Rangers as I can get them. Dozens are tossed about like rags in the wind, while some others are simply obliterated outright.
But the ones that didn’t die simply get up, knitting themselves back together, a tiny sliver of magic connecting each of them to the still living healer in the back.
Thankfully, the formation did slow after my attack, so I repeat the process twice more, spacing out the detonations as much as I can. Several fighters step out from behind the shield wall, spears and swords raised towards me, and that’s when I realize something.
None of them are firing spells or arrows at me anymore.
I’m too close to the formation.
Dozens of spells, and even more arrows, still fly overhead in a constant stream, and I follow their trajectory for a moment.
At some point, she’d summoned her throne.
She sits atop it, but the royal facade she wore in the duels is nowhere to be seen. Both hands are outstretched towards the ice wall, sweat pouring down her face in sparkling rivulets that freeze the instant they’re free.
A spear of green fire slams into the wall, shattering the first and second layers before finally dispersing on the third, only to be followed by another spell and even more arrows cracking it wide open as well.
She conjures three more from the mist pooling on the ground below, only for the next volley to shatter those as well.
Ice spikes occasionally lance forward, but it’s clear that offense is not her focus in the slightest. Even those spears of ice are halfhearted at best, and more often than not met with opposing spells, destroying them before they can reach their mark.
The few that slip through detonate in the formation, giving her scant instants of reprieve to reinforce her walls.
She’s holding them back better with the aid of her Skill, but it’s still not enough.
Then a shadow lunges for her, and I’m filled with a spike of horror when she doesn’t budge.
Metal flashes, a red ribbon dancing through the air in a blur as Seraphine intercepts the Rogue with three strikes in the same heartbeat.
The undead falls to the ground, arms and head severed entirely. Two more follow his place as Seraphine turns into a flurry of metal and death.
Rage curdles in my gut at the attempt, but I have to believe they’ll keep themselves safe.
I turn my attention back to the approaching fighters and it takes a monumental force of will not to charge them outright. Fae Ferocity eggs me on, willing me ever forward, but I shift my focus with the idea that I can cause more damage in another way.
So I turn and run.
Not away, but alongside the front line, skirting the limits of their reaching spears as I trace a path past their shields. None of them Fighters that left formation keep pace with me, though they try.
Seconds pass as I run, Blood Bursts detonating as often as I can make them, when the shields noticeably shift.
Suddenly they begin closing ranks, sealing the sparse gaps in their formation. That’s when I notice that the magic threads that were piecing them back together… are gone.
I spot Nyx then, sprinting past the outer edge of the formation, hand wrapped around a dagger that’d been buried in his gut at some point, each step trailing blood. On his heels are two more Rogues, but they aren’t keeping up even with his injury.
Instead, he spins in place, aims his crossbow, and fires in one smooth movement. Not at his pursuers though—but at a Mage in the back line.
Its head snaps back violently as the bolt buries itself in its skull.
Then it melts from the head down.
What the fuck does he put on those bolts?!
Still, a ferocious grin finds its way to my face as I realize the second healer is dealt with, and that he’s in good enough condition to continue.
So I do the same, raining as much hell over their heads as I can until I’m down to just thirty percent mana and have to start shifting my mana between Arcane Regulation and normal mana regen, letting it recharge.
While I definitely don’t have the full minute it’d take to let my mana refill, even just a few seconds is enough for another supercharged Blood Burst.
So every few seconds, another detonation goes off.
Still, the shield wall quickly surrounds the entire group, formation shifting to defend all sides even as they advance through the chaos.
Much, much slower, but still always moving forward.
Just as I’m about to throw myself at the wall to see if I can make an opening, a wave of cold rushes past my back.
With a glance, I find a massive spear of ice embedded in the shield wall, buried through the chest of one particularly unlucky undead. Then it detonates, carving a hole in the ranks wide enough for three of me to slip through.
My yipping laughter is drowned out by the constant roar of the fight and endless thrum of the alarm as I shift my mana into All For One and take the plunge.
Two spears try to intercept me, but I was faster than the fighters even without All For One and Fae Ferocity active.
Then I’m immediately punished for my hubris.
One of them activates a Skill, its shield snapping sideways fast enough to catch me across the ribs like a battering ram. The impact steals the air from my lungs and sends me staggering straight into two others waiting for me.
Shields slam into me from either side.
For a heartbeat, I’m trapped.
Blades scrape through my barrier. One punches through entirely, biting into my thigh hard enough to wrench a startled snarl from my throat.
They close ranks.
Growling, I pull from my reserves once more and detonate two Blood Bursts point-blank.
The explosions tear open space around me in a storm of blood and wind, bodies flung outward as armor screams and bone snaps.
Only now I’m more wary.
Fae Ferocity howls its approval at the danger. My heart answers in kind, its thunderous beat joining the chaos.
Moments later, I’m fighting my way toward the center as the formation closes in behind me with finality, sealing me inside the shield wall.
My claws find little purchase on the armor, but I don’t care. I’m here to shift the focus. To disrupt. To give Bella and Nyx more openings to work with.
Blades scrape across my barrier, some cracking the fragments, others punching through with little effort. I avoid what I can and shrug off the rest, focusing on it only enough to avoid losing a limb.
All the while I shunt mana into Arcane Regulation only when absolutely necessary, opting to use that mana for as many Blood Bursts as possible.
Each one detonates in front of me every few seconds, opening the path ever wider and giving me more space to carve through. After a while, time starts to lose meaning to me. I don’t know how long I wreak havoc in their ranks, but it feels like hours.
Then I finally spot my first undead Mage.
I tear through it as quickly as possible, then move on to the next.
And then the next.
And the next.
Each one I find is closer than the last, until I’m suddenly carving through almost exclusively Rangers and Mages, harried by a constant swarm of Fighters.
A wave of mist rolls over my feet, then, and everything changes.
Dozens, if not hundreds, of narrow ice spikes sprout from the ground in every direction, impaling most of the still standing undead near the center of the formation. Some still have enough unlife in them to cast a spell or two, quickly freeing themselves…
…only to be met with hair-thin black wires snapping through the air around them, cutting them down with swift and brutal snaps.
Even more spears of ice rain down from on high, cracking the formation even further, and only then do the ranks finally begin to fall apart.
That’s when I catch sight of Seraphine higher up the incline, spear flashing as she duels two Fighters simultaneously. And behind her, a wake of corpses.
The undead don’t flee after the shift in momentum though, like the armies in the stories would. They just keep coming, tireless in their devotion to murder me.
Only now it’s simply a battle of attrition. Something undead would usually be uniquely suited to win.
But I don’t get tired.
My barks and yips of revelry grow ever louder.
******
Authors Note:I both do and don't miss writing the combat scenes. I've definitely found that I have a pretty clear comfort zone in the slice of life stuff.
But this is the kind of stuff that I think is just... so damn cool. The power fantasy moments. I freaking love them so much.
They're just harder for me to write, for some reason.
But practice makes perfect, as they say! What would I ever learn if I didn't push myself out of my comfort zone?
Thanks for reading <3