Mwai stared down at the letter from Kassandora: ‘Melukal will fall in a week, schedule a United Ardan League meeting for eight days from now, or as soon as possible.’That was the official courtroom of the world. Where every nation would come to voice its qualms. It was to resolve issues before Divines needed to get involved, even though it had been started by the White Pantheon. ‘I will have images for you to show the world. I’ve sent Helenna for speechwriting advice, she already has some of the pictures with her.’

Lyca awoke to an explosion. Then another. Then screams, then orders being shouted. He rose from the large bed and quickly dressed himself. “I cannot believe we actually managed to sleep through that.” Edmonton said as he awoke from another bed that had been moved into the room. They were in one of the tall apartment blocks. Evacuated now and empty save for the fifty-two sorcerers that had claimed them as barracks. It was in the western areas of the city, the richer areas, although the building was chosen because every room had its own balcony. Useful when you were handling people who could fly.

Lyca dressed himself as Edmonton stretched out. “I can’t believe you slept in your clothes.” They were sharing a room, Lyca and Eliza were in the one next to them, the fresh meat was sleeping on the floor below. Fresh-meat, as in the new blood among the sorcerers. Anassa absolutely refused to honour them with the official rank until they had been tested in battle. ‘Even rats can be made to practice’ she had said.

Eliza slammed open the door with Fleur close behind her as Lyca was brewing the morning coffee. He had never considered himself a coffee person, but then those short months under Anassa pushed him further than the other twenty years of his life. “You’re making coffee NOW?!” Eliza screamed at him. Lyca smelled the cup, the indicated to the window with it.

Outside, Fortia’s army was approaching. Trying to at least, they had pushed down the hill towards Melukal and then come across the minefield. Now, there were two craters in the ground, some twenty bodies, and the rest of the men stood still in fright and shock. Fortia was on the hill, surveying the battlefield in what seemed to be confusion as to why her men were exploding.

There was another file of men coming down the road. “Here, I made one for you.” Lyca said as he pointed to the other three cups on the counter. Whoever had lived here before did like their coffee, it was an excellent taste. He turned back to the window and watched. Past the sign-post they went, then it would happen in three.

Two.

One.

Another explosion. Asphalt and sand and blood and bodies sprayed in all directions. A gust of wind came to sweep the fog away. Magical winds, normal winds didn’t throw dust up into the air, into a ball, and then deposit it to the side of the road. That column of troops, all in their golden armours, came to a stop. The men at the front didn’t look so vibrant when they were coated with dust and slathered with blood. Two men turned and retreated immediately. Smart choice.

Lyca sipped his coffee and snapped his fingers. There was a crash downstairs, a few curses, then one man shouted loudly through the floor. “We’re awake!” He snapped his fingers again. Another crash. The voice shouted again. “Boss!” There we go. Lyca smiled to himself as he sipped the cup.

“I still don’t know how you do that.” Eliza said as she came to stand by the window. Anassa had given them permission to wear their own clothes as long as they looked good. It was a simple rule, much better than Kassandora’s mandated dress code. Lyca himself wore a white shirt and trousers, the belt had been swapped with an expensive leather one he found in this apartment. Edmonton wore the same, but with a jacket over it. Fleur, the ever diligent student rather predictably, wore a dress that emulated Anassa’s, but without so much skin showing. Eliza had gone for the classic, white shirt, skirt, and jacket over it. Her hair was tied back into the ponytail Lyca had told her was cute. And then they were all given heartstone rings to wear. Anassa said they were a crutch, but that crutches were sometimes needed when legs didn’t work. The fresh-meat didn’t get crutches.

“You just feel it.” That was the most honest advice he could give. He simply knew he’d hit the furniture and not his men, and he didn’t think about it any further than that. Sorcery really was a simple thing.

“When are we moving out?” Edmonton said as a couch moved to the glass pane. He crashed down on it, the coffee in his hand didn’t even spill a drop. Fleur clicked her tongue in annoyance, but she sat down too.

“When we see mages. We’re not to push them to be fast. If they spend a week trying to figure out the minefield then we spend a week watching them.” Eliza shook her head and laughed to herself. “What’s so funny?” Lyca asked.

“I just remembered when we helped Fer that first time.” She said quietly. “I was nervous then. And now?” She moved her cup and spilled a few drops of coffee. Sorcery caught the brown liquid in the air and put it back. “That’s an army there and we’re having our morning brew.” She laughed to herself. Lyca smiled at that thought, how times have changed. Eliza eventually took another sip of her drink. “Also, more hedgehogs arrived yesterday in the evening. Sokolowski sent a note.”

“How many?” Lyca asked.

“He said fifty.”

“Then twenty minutes of work.” Lyca replied as he watched that army stand. Fortia finally decided to move. She slowly walked forwards until she met with the front ranks of her men. The right side had stopped their advance entirely upon seeing what happened to the front and left. She made some hand gestures and the frontline started to pull back. They were replaced by men and women in colourful robes. Anassa had told them: White, black or red. Nothing else. Now seeing an array of mages, Lyca understood why.

It was a disgusting mismatch of colours, and it revealed exactly who was who. The pyromancers wore reds and oranges, the few geomancers among them wore browns, in various dull or vivid shades. Fires started to burst out over the sand as they waved their staves. “That’s our signal.” Lyca said, he quickly downed the rest of the cup. The heat set off five hedgehogs. The mages took a step forward and repeated. They weren’t fast and at this rate, they’d take a day or two to scour the area entirely, but Lyca didn’t spend a day planting the landmines in order for mages to manually blow them up.

Lyca was about to move when four explosions reverberated through the city. From the south. The mages stopped in confusion, one man raised a finger pointing up. Fortia started shouting, her spear blurring out of reality as she made motion after motion with her hands. A blue shield appeared above them. Four more explosions boomed across Melukal and Lyca heard whistling through the air.

And then fire.

More explosions and more fire that burned with a tar-like black smoke. Lyca had seen the Binturong artillery back in the main camp when it went to clear the Jungle in the west, and now he saw it being used on men. Tried to at least. Fortia’s men started pulling back as more mages, interspersed throughout the crowds of men started to raise staffs. Winds started to blow, blue shields of pure energy built up layer of layer above the troops. And the second round of shells of hit.

Like the first, they didn’t touch the desert sands, they exploded on impact with shields the magicians raised and spewed flaming jelly into a flood of fire. Lyca listened for a third volley, there was none. Sokolowski had only ordered two then. He passed the cup to Eliza. “Don’t tell me you’re going out into that.” She said flatly.

“Who dares, wins.” Lyca took a step back and snapped his fingers. The large glass window opened up for him and the winds started blowing everyone’s cloths. Fleur made an angry face as she made a wave of her hands and the wind stopped touching her hair.

“Kassandora did say to go with lots of lights assaults and avoid heavy engagements.” Edmonton said from the couch as he stood up, shook his arms and yawned.

“She also said not to deploy everyone at the same time.” Fleur replied.

“Then you two stay here, we’re going out.” Lyca said to the girls as winds howled through the room. There was no reason to wait for Edmonton, Anassa trained them in combat arts but she didn’t force a particular style on anyone. Killing was killing, there was little else to it, she had said. How the meal was prepared didn’t matter as long as it was edible.

Edmonton had a more methodical way of fighting. One reminiscent of the duels in Arcadia, but faster obviously. And with actual intention behind it. And Lyca? Lyca reached the wall as Eliza stepped out of the way. Those large brown eyes looked at him, she mouthed a quiet ‘be careful’ and Lyca kicked off.

Across the room he sprinted and launched into the air. A kick off edge sent him spinning backwards and he snapped his fingers. The windows of the room his team was staying in exploded into fine mist of glass that fell onto the empty street below. His team started to jump out of the building immediately. Good, Fer had been correct when she shared with Lyca how to instil discipline.

Edmonton was methodical, but Lyca had that wolf inside him. He had actually gone to Fer for advice on tactics. Fer had been absolutely delighted to share her thoughts on what constituted a battle. “Wolves!” That was the name he had chosen for his team. “Today we hunt!”

And Lyca launched into the air.

Sokolowski turned left when he heard glass shatter. He thought it was counter-artillery for a moment but it was just the sorcerers. Wiktor’s camera was snapping photos immediately. Twelve more cursed souls jumped out from the below as the leader shot up into the air.

He stopped for a moment, mid-way between his tower and the frontlines as his men caught up to him.

And then they dived down.

And Sokolowski found a new term in his mind for that style of fighting: ‘human artillery’.

Two red balls spiralled around Lyca as cascaded through the air, feet first. Anassa had taught them all how to break through magical barriers, it was a simple principle, as simple as popping a balloon with a needle. Concentrate your energies into as sharp a point as possible, and then stab it with everything you had. You just needed surety of yourself, and Lyca had more than enough of that. He had bit a God before after all, what was simply breaking through a shield?

The two spheres arced down just before impact, elongated to become swords, then joined. They touched the shining blue barrier with its hundred men staring up at Lyca. Spears already pointed forwards, shields raised and ready, but eyes filled nothing but pure shock and disbelief. And Lyca felt the shock of that shield. It wasn’t as strong as Anassa’s, but with the amount of mages supporting it… He… No. Sorcery needed surety. He wasn’t about to doubt himself. A second spike of sorcerous energies touched the shield from the first man in his team.

And a second.

And a third.

And a fourth.

And the shield popped. Disappeared like a balloon with the sound of shattering glass. Immediately the sounds from the other side came through. Orders being shouted, calls to retreat and pull back and reorganize. Calls from magicians who hadn’t realized what was going on yet. Shouts and pained moans from men who had been injured by the hedgehogs. And then screams as the shield holding up the burning napalm disappeared. The jelly dropped onto armour and skin and sand and burned it all.

Lyca’s ring started blazing red as he smelled blood. The wolf inside him started to howl, his arm swept through the air and sorcery followed. Anassa would be damn proud of her student. A wolf’s paw of red followed his motion before him, tearing through the men as Lyca’s other hand burst out in his magical flames.

One of Fortia’s Guardians raised his shield, his feet dug into the sand and he braced for impact against that claw. It smashed into him, knocked him down, and then the man got up. Spear already in hand and thrusting towards Lyca. A red beam from the severed his hand, then a red blade split the man clean in two. The blade started to flow like a snake, jumping from man to man as the Guardians started to fall. Edmonton’s work that. Lyca wouldn’t let the man have the better of him.

He turned to four mages who had formed a communion circle. Anassa had told them of it, but not trained them in sorcery’s equivalent yet. Three souls poured their energies into the woman they surrounded. She was dressed in blue, her staff tipped off with a large blue sapphire. A tremendous spike of ice materialized above her as she pulled water from the air and froze it.

It would have been a powerful attack if she managed to get it off. But she didn’t. Lyca took a step and the gap was closed in an instant. Anassa had explained the principle behind it and they used it before, when they rescued Fer. And Lyca slammed his fist into that blue dress, the witch’s eyes bulged, the blood drained from her face and then she coughed.

Lyca pulled his hand away as his sorcery split the woman in half at the waist. The top part of her body slowly slid off. Lyca didn’t let up, there were still three mages around him. Two were pyromancers dressed in vivid reds and warm oranges, shawls hanging down to their feet. And the last was an aeromancer in dull grey. Those were exceptionally dangerous, with blades of air that could split men in half with a mere flick of their staff. Three mages, who, if trained, would have reacted immediately and turned him to ash. But they didn’t.

They didn’t and he did. Lyca snapped his fingers, a thin red band appeared around him. He snapped his fingers again. It shattered into shards, red dashes in the air that Anassa had taught them to make. In her words, sorcery was used to paint reality. How they wanted to paint was by up to them. Lyca snapped his fingers a third time as the mages started to realise what was going on. One of the men had a fireball in his hands, the other simply waved his staff forwards and fire exploded underneath Lyca. It would have been a good trick if Lyca had never been trained in pyromancy.

Whether through sheer luck or the whims of fate though, he was. The flames exploded in a cone around him that he guided away with his own mind. This magician was simply generating them on the ground rather than controlling them. Anassa had much higher standards for her pupils than that. The red shards around Lyca burst outwards. They ravaged through the nearby guardians, slicing through armour and shield as if it was paper.

The unprotected mages around fell as a pattern of holes and cuts and tears tore their bodies apart. Lyca took a breath and smelled the blood. He had to keep that wolf within him under control, if it came out, he’d fight until they finally felled him. A drop of blood landed on his lips, his tongue greedily lapped it up, realised what he was doing and spat it out. No.

Lyca sidestepped a guardian with a spear, raised his hands to counterattack, then spun when someone from Edmonton’s team fired a red beam from above and burned a hole through the man’s chest. Two more guardians fell, sliced open by another blast of sorcery. Lyca roared as he smelled mage-blood. He kicked off into the air and saw the target, a mage with charred clothes and burn marks over her body.

He twisted in the air, kicked off nothing and slammed down into her. The life left her eyes as her head was buried in the sand. Lyca didn’t take the time to savour his kill, he jumped into the air and put up a shield to block a hail of sand. The magician casting it was cut down by Edmonton. His team in the air was split half on defence, half on sniping targets of interest.

Lyca looked at the burning napalm around him and pulled away, it bubbled and ruptured on the ground and spat little drops of fire in all directions. It would be time to pull back soon, Fortia wouldn’t re-engage before the evening after this, hopefully not until next day. Lyca looked at the hill he had last seen the Goddess of Peace on.

Where was she anyway?

Fortia turned as she gazed on in stunned silence at the chaos that was engulfing her forces. Thirteen sorcerers, only one measly team on the ground, then only one supporting them from the air. And they brought so much damage. She raised her hand, her spear rematerialized within her grip.

Children, the lot of them.

“LYCA!” Edmonton’s voice boomed through the air. “PULL OUT! SHE’S APPROACHING!” Lyca heard the wolf inside him growl, the hairs stand up, he knew that meant to duck. It had saved him in training, it had saved him in Arcadia, it had been useful during Anassa’s rescue. And it saved him again as he trusted his instincts, simply slackened his legs and fell onto the sand.

A golden spear through the area where he had been standing. He rolled over and his eyes caught the figure immediately. A giant walking in gleaming golden armour, men rallying behind her. With each step, it seemed as if the sand was simply getting duller and retreating from the grandeur of that Divine. “PULL BACK!” Lyca shouted to his team. A few disengaged immediately, a few launched into the air after finishing off whoever they had been fighting.

He saw the woman raise her hand, the spear reappeared in her hand. She adopted a throwing posture once again. Lyca got to his feet and adopted a fighting stance, one ready to dodge. Those cold eyes of gold looked over to him and the woman smiled. She twisted her stomach, pulled her arm back, the golden gaze focused on Lyca, that smile dropped.

The sand exploded in a wave as she launched that spear. Faster than magic, faster than mortal sorcery, the only time Lyca had ever seen that speed was when he faced Anassa herself. His body worked by itself, he twisted, he raised a barrier, he heard Kassandora’s voice in his head. Don’t try to block Fortia, she’s too powerful in a frontal assault, move the spear, force it to the side. You may achieve that.

He couldn’t even see the spear in that instant, he merely forced another wave of sorcery to sweep to the side. A barrier appeared before him, Edmonton’s and not his, like a curling wall that intended to divert the flight path rather than catch the spear. Lyca grunted and fell as he felt his sorcery make contact with Fortia’s spear, it was stronger and faster than any of Anassa’s attacks during training.

And it had the full intention to kill. Lyca dropped to the ground again as Edmonton’s shield shattered in the next instant. Several beams came from above and were reflected back into the cloudless blue desert sky above. Lyca jumped to his feet and glanced at his team. Four, four and four. Twelve. He lifted into the air as a hail of ice assaulted the location he had just been standing on.

The sand pirouetted up to meet him. Just magic, a barrier blocked that. Fleur and Eliza rose with their teams behind Edmonton’s as Lyca retreated back into the city. Fortia came to a stop just before the landmine field. “She is strong.” Edmonton said.

“Kassandora said she can’t fly.” Fleur raised her shield.

“She’s looking at us.” Eliza said as her team formed a collective barrier.

Lyca turned to look at his men, then at glanced at Fortia again. She stood there in silence as she watched them. The spear reappeared in her hand as she looked at Lyca’s team. “EVADE!” Lyca shouted to his men. Two men started to slalom immediately, others dropped, more raised altitude.

And one man fell. The spear caught him, tore his chest and pulled him along into the sky. “RAISE BARRIERS!” Eliza shouted. “ALL TOGETHER!” Explosions rung from the south of the city. Sokolowski’s artillery fired a volley. Fortia looked up at them, raised her hand, the golden spear rematerialized. Clean, as if it didn’t just completely tear a man apart.

Fifty one sorcerers joined together to raise a shield. A barrier of such thick red it almost matched Anassa’s own magic, each man and woman poured in all their energies. Lyca could barely even see through that glinted red glass. “HOLD IT!” Edmonton shouted.

Fortia twisted and threw with her whole body. The sand arrow her went up in swirling winds. The sound barrier cracked. The spear tip touched the shield. Lyca poured everything he had into it.

The barrier cracked immediately, the spear barely even slowed down. One man sorcerer went up into the air, dragged by the spear into only Divines-knew-where. A gaping hole through his chest, an arc of blood over the entirety of Melukal. Lyca stared down at Fortia in horror. She looked up, shook her head, and then jumped back.

Moments later, Sokolowski’s artillery scorched the sand where she had stood. “Retreat, back to the barracks!” Edmonton shouted, his team hurriedly escaped low to behind the buildings. The others quickly followed.

They had bought a day, they inflicted a few hundred casualties, and they lost 4% of their total strength. The smile disappeared from Lyca’s mouth as he realised Anassa had only been trifling with them. She had only given them what they could take, and Lyca had thought he could match her. He looked back at Fortia. The Goddess of Peace was stood on the hill, spear already in her hand, sunlight reflecting off her golden armour as she surveyed the battlefield.

Mages and Guardians lay dead on that sand. Burning napalm still raged and hissed as steel cracked and melted underneath the heat. A hedgehog randomly exploded from the searing flames. Another one followed. One day down, six days left. Sokolowski would have his week.

Lyca’s gaze trailed back to Fortia. She had turned around already and was disappearing behind that dune of sand. He thought of Anassa and then Fortia. He had faired much in training than in battle. He thought about the training again.

Were they actually so overwhelming that even fifty of them couldn’t even make them break a sweat?

He silently swore to himself to one day match that sheer power.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep