Chương 12: Bend

The Lancer walked confidently towards the barbed wire, whistling a Black-Eyed Peas tune. It had been a good six years, but Boom-Boom Pow was an earworm. At the very least, he hadn't gotten it out yet. Behind him, other Travelers were letting loose with a host of weapons. Arrows, bolts, and throwing spears flew past him toward the two towers. The bridge was still intact. The rail lines were undamaged, thanks to their blocking of the Healer's sunbeam earlier. It meant too many Scales had made it across.

But if they could keep the bridge intact, they could keep the pressure on the Scales. He walked forward, the barbed wire only a few feet away. He saw Scales in the trenches further away, retreating. Futile. The earth beneath Lancer opened, fire blossoming. The ground shook, and the Traveler bit back a scream as his retinas burned and his ears bled. The ground beneath his feet vanished as he hurtled up, flying into the sky. An explosion has hit you. Your armor has absorbed 95% of all damage from the explosion.

You have taken 350 damage. Armor effects have negated all body part damage. Environmental effects have inflicted Blindness and Deafness afflictions on you. You are currently at 1073/1980 HP. His fuzzy vision returned to focus, looking down at the swiftly retreating ground. The Lancer stared at the retreating surface of the world, more than a little annoyed. His armor prevented fall damage, so he didn't worry. The amount of time this explosion would potentially keep him airborne, though, might be an issue.

He reached the zenith of his arc, and so were others. A good perception rank made picking out his fellow travelers easy. Eight others up here, hopefully alive. The closest one moved, limbs whipping around as if they were going to turn into wings. It would be harder to tell the identity of the closest one if it wasn't for one little thing.

"-Goddamn cowards! Fight like a man, you bunch of hidey-hole pansies!" One of the only utility abilities the Juggernaut had ever been excited to pick made his voice louder.

"And don't think I don't see you, you kill-stealing bitch!" What was the Juggernaut ranting about this time? In mid-air, no less? Something left the Juggernaut's hands flying towards him. The Lancer squinted. What was that? A sword as tall as the Lancer flew through the air, the gargantuan blade passing inches above his head. The wind from the massive weapon flying back almost flipped him over as he stared at in disbelief. Had he just tried to throw his sword at him?

Maybe Lancer's head had been rattled by the explosion more than he thought. That or the Juggernaut had finally lost his mind and decided to try and fight the rest of his team. They both plummeted down, and Lancer angled his fall towards the same trench the Juggernaut headed for. He'd figure out what the other Traveler's issue was, or he'd see if Heartseeker could split the dolt's thick armor. He neared the ground swiftly, bracing for his landing. Hitting the ground wouldn't hurt, but it wouldn't be pleasant either.

Both legs rammed into the earth up to his knees, dirt flying. The Juggernaut landed just in front of him, dirt spraying across the length of the trench from his landing. A pair of incredulous Scales reached for their weapons as the Juggernaut rose. Lancer didn't even bother moving. Bullets bounced off armor uselessly as the Juggernaut charged, sword raised. Lightning snaked from the sky, hitting both the Scales.

Both seized up, flesh charring and burning before they both collapsed, dead just as the Juggernaut reached them.

"Goddamnit, fucking twice!" The Juggernaut raged. The fellow Traveler punted the side of the trench, an explosion of dirt rising as half the trench wall flew away.

"She's doing it on purpose. She has to be. I'm going to kill her!"

"Would you stop kicking away our cover, calm down, and learn to speak in a way that does not assume everyone knows what you are talking about?"

"The Stormsummoner! She stole my kills again. She's a leech everywhere I go. It's why I threw my sword at her." Ah. Lancer forced down a pang of rising anger. He had been pretty sure he'd imagined that.

"You threw your sword at her?"

"I figured it wouldn't hit. It was just a warning. I thought I saw Stormsummoner flying in the distance and decided she could use a friendly little reminder of her behavior." The Juggernaut held up said sword, a thick slab of dragon bone fused to the hilt.

"Pretty good throw, too. Did you see it?"

"Considering your blade passed perhaps a few inches above my own head, I could barely miss it," The Lancer replied. The Juggernaut's helmet seemed to jerk to one side.

"Oh. Sorry, Trevor. Look, I didn't mean to hit anyone. If I did… well, you'd have died. One-on-one, I'd rip you a new one." He wished he could put the Juggernaut on the List, but unfortunately, being impetuous didn't get you a spot on it. Quite the opposite usually. To be fair to him, he wasn't usually this moronic. It probably had to do with his lack of getting a level. The other Traveller refused to use the Dungeons anymore, declaring them 'too easy', but also constantly whined about his inability to level fast.

Also, the Lancer didn't feel like being fair. Not after almost being decapitated. Maybe the List can make an exception for near-friendly fire instead of a lack of fighting spirit. The Juggernaut himself was looking over the lip of the trench casually, bullets ricocheting off of his armor.

"They're falling back. It's probably going to blow the bridge soon unless their leader is a bleeding heart. Met too many of them before all this, all of them like that." The other reason to consider it. The man's lips were far too loose and inconsiderate of who could be lurking nearby.

"Enough of that," The Lancer commanded. To his credit, the Juggernaut seemed to grasp the reason for the order as he quieted. Only for a second.

"Any of the rest of the group get in touch, maybe? Didn't you send the Blade to infiltrate the bridge?"

"Jake, just let me think. Or kill some Scales. Please." The Lancer turned his attention to the UI as the Juggernaut lumbered off. He did, in fact, have a message waiting for him from the Blade. I tried to infiltrate. Scales threatened to blow the siege mortar's ammo if I didn't get off. I don't think they were bluffing. I could swim further out if you want? The Lancer frowned. The siege mortar's ammo blowing up the bridge was an outcome he didn't want.

It would be much harder to stop that than a more conventional explosives set-up. Worse, an explosion of that force might kill some of them. Don't bother. Isolated, they might bring something able to kill you. Fall back, regroup. We'll think of something else. They couldn't openly advance on the bridge. There existed too much of a chance the Scaverians would simply blow it up, even with their own troops on it. They needed a distraction while he and a few others went for that siege mortar directly.

And he knew what to make it. He composed a new message to the Healer. Lewis. Have you used your goddess' boon for the day? The reply came after only a few seconds. I haven't called the boon in yet, just in case someone went to the brink of death. Why? The Lancer grinned. Do you want to be a hero?

The Major watched as massive plumes of smoke and earth marked what had once been the edge of the earthworks. Trees plummeted down, ancient oaks falling from the sky. They landed among his retreating troops, most landing outside the trenches harmlessly. He let go of his death grip on the rails as the world's shaking faded. Behind him, command staff picked themselves off the concrete floor. The entire tower felt like it might have shifted in the face of the sheer power just unleashed.

Only five mines had been set on the edge of the trenches, and even those few had consumed vast quantities of explosives. Ten tons of explosives each had turned the approach to bridge into a crater-filled moonscape, each easily two hundred feet wide and a hundred deep. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. War rarely saw such power unleashed by low-level individuals. Mines had never been a popular weapon. Not in Scaveria when they'd first been invented.

The System considered kills with them too abstract, and the line between cause and effect too tenuous to assign XP to either the manufacturer, the mine layer, or even whoever set for the weapon. Which was, of course, the poor fuck that had set them off. That unpopularity faded over time. Getting an additional level paled compared to winning the actual battle. So, the use of explosive traps surged once the war began. Although you could argue their focus on not getting levels doomed them to the Travelers.

The Major didn't care. The chance to have a meaningful debate on the subject died long ago. More explosives went off, lighter ones further out meant to catch any retreating Travelers. Relatively lighter. The plumes of dirt were smaller, the trees thrown not quite as far. The earth didn't shake. He assumed the noise was less ear-shattering. He couldn't hear anything, of course, besides a light buzzing that didn't exist outside his head. His ears still hurt, a stabbing, deep pain that wouldn't be gone for a while.

Behind him, his command staff had already switched to hand signals and writing. It had been expected, but there was no easy protection for explosions of that size so close to them. Jarvin had the orders to fall back. Hand signals were rudimentary but would serve the most immediate purposes. He could see the orange and reds of burning fire deeper into the forest. They'd detonated the incendiaries off, trying to delay the Travelers further.

He had little hope it would kill any of them, but perhaps the raging forest fire would pen them in. Graeceling approached clipboard in hand, scribbling quickly on it. Radio operator waiting on orders. Rocket barges were reported ready to fire right before explosives. Order to fire? It wasn't even a question. The mathematical chance of any of this killing a Traveler was slim. Slim, but there. Anything to increase the odds would help. He reached for the clipboard. Fire it. Blanket fire along this side of the river.

Tell the Musveil crew if they can't move it, they are to abandon it. And the shield? Ah. The second wonder of the gods here. Even less of a choice with that one. Too heavy. Keep it in the basement. Tell the staff to keep set its power output at total capacity. It'll burn itself out and keep any artillery fire or long-range strikes off long enough to evacuate. The Major paused, thinking of one order he should give now. In all honesty, he'd delayed giving it too long. He could hope the rockets would keep them at bay.

If not…. the Musveil's sacrifice he could easily stomach. The soldiers still desperately trying to escape this nightmare, only feet away? There were no gods left to ask for forgiveness. The souls of the dead, maybe. They'd castigate him, he felt, for both this and earlier decisions. Tell the nearest group of engineers you can find. I want the Musveil's ammo rigged to explode. Preferably timed, but if they can't manage that, it's to be detonated the moment the Travelers reach the bridge.

Seventy vessels moved in tight formation across the waters of the Malden, struggling against the waves created by the storm above. Strikes of lightning illuminated them. They'd doused all the light sources in an attempt at some measure of stealth. The mixture of armored patrol boats and converted river barges of the flotilla were equally vulnerable. The Travelers at the bridge were busy, but if they spotted the flotilla of ships, there was little to protect them from the ravages of the mages.

Wood or steel, both crumpled just the same from Spears of Shadow or Light. Both were obliterated as easily by Fireballs, Magic Missiles, or most other offensive spells. The flotilla avoiding notice was their only defense. They came to a halt, their position reached. Muttered orders went out as rocket racks slowly moved into position. Waves continued to rock the boats, threatening to throw their formation and aim off.

Most of the rockets were fake, decoys on the edges of the formation meant to absorb Traveler fire before it reached the real rocket boats. The twenty real ones carried two racks each, sixteen 122mm rockets in each. Up above, one of the flying Travelers halted and turned around. They'd spotted the flotilla. Lanterns burst to life, rocket racks moving into position. The storm intensified, the Traveller trying to encourage the winds closer to the surface faster. Too late.

Bolts of lightning struck from the sky, tearing and ripping at the boats. Within a half minute, eighteen boats had been torn to shreds. Only two of them had carried actual rockets. Shrieking as they launched, five hundred and seventy-six rockets filled the sky.

The evacuations of the towers had gone well. The Major stood on top of the Musveil now, watching the evacuation. Behind, the remnants of the garrison were still crossing the first section. A hundred, maybe two hundred, still on the first part of the bridge or not even that far yet. Slow. Far too slow. The shock of the mines would wear off soon if they hadn't already. Regular artillery support still had yet to arrive. And the Shield would only block attacks outside of it.

Next to him, engineers worked feverishly on the ammo tractor, setting it up for detonation. The open roof revealed the eight shells still inside, each nestled in its own section of reinforced steel to try and prevent sympathetic detonation. Among other things, the engineers needed to remove those. They'd need to cap that roof and weaken the bottom instead, so the majority of the explosive force would go into the bridge itself instead of the open air.

Graeceling suddenly moved, pointing towards the still-settling plumes of dirt and smoke. His gaze snapped to where she pointed. The Travelers had learned from last time. The advance force was Aetherean regulars, likely those left from the portal assault. They cautiously picked their way through the craters, keeping their heads down. The back of his fleeing garrison already assumed defensive positions. It was good discipline still held but not wanted.

He needed them across the bridge so they could detonate the Musveil's ammo. Written orders to Jarvis wouldn't do much. His soldiers, deafened by the artillery at best, operated in small groups currently. They couldn't coordinate. All he could hope was they would fall back until their fire support finally arrived. Something flew in, smoke trailing behind it, and the teleported Aetherians came to a halt. Some were already trying to run. Too late. The area in front of the bridge turned into a maelstrom.

Rockets crashed down in the hundred, and the Major grabbed onto a handhold as the entire bridge began to shake as the shrieks of the engines became a continuous scream as explosives detonated. Others didn't just explode. Dragonsfire warheads opened to the air, their contents catching alight immediately before spreading onto the troops below. A dome sprang into existence, golden-white and encompassing the entire enemy assault. Rockets continued to streak in, exploding against the dome's surface.

The Major watched as best he could, even as the footing he stood on quaked. A Traveler. The Major stared, looking at the shield. No one in this battle could be fresh in mana or fatigue. They just needed to wait. More rockets came in. The shield flickered, cracks running through the surface, then it disappeared, and the remaining rockets passed through. The ground beyond it became a field of explosions, plumes of earth, and smoke joined by orange bursts as rockets detonated.

Soon, that entire area was nothing but floating smoke and the occasional detonation of another rocket as it came shrieking in. Occasional flickers of different colored lights, visual indications of Travelers weaving defensive works out of magic. More personalized and much weaker than the larger dome-shield of before. That shield would be the most impressive tool the Travelers used today. It was likely a divine intervention of some nature, and a very minor one at that, to fall so swiftly.

Not much mana invested into it, and so they were able to destroy it. The days of Travelers blinking entire formations out of existence or turning back time were thankfully over. With stronger, fresher foes nipping at the Aethereans, their front downgraded in priority. Other nations had those enemies as a problem. Even that brought its sense of despair. Scaveria survived because they weren't considered the most dangerous foes of Aetherea. If they ever had been.

Any chance of that disappeared when the last dragon had been eaten from the inside by rot. The constant barrage of rockets had stopped by now, the barge's supply exhausted until new ones could be mounted on the rails. Assuming the fleet had survived whatever castings the Travelers had sent back there. For now, he had to worry about the Travelers at the Bridge.

They could hope between the detonations, rockets, and the destruction of what remained of the Aetherian infantry forces, the Travelers wouldn't attempt to force the bridge. He couldn't hold them off if they did. Hence, the urgency in getting troops across now. Smoke continued to drift, slowly clearing its way off the field. The burning incendiaries would obscure vision soon enough, but for now the broken earth was empty, aside from corpses and body parts littered about.

Ah, one of them had chosen to attempt the assault. Walking through the smoke, light shining off him like some ancient knight of old. Or more likely of modern times. He doubted knights a thousand years past were as clean as Travelers kept themselves. He didn't need binoculars to know who this one was as the light grew in intensity. The chosen of their Sun Goddess, here to obliterate them all with her light. Again.

He'd hardly missed the first time the device at the tower's base had started shrieking and sparking as the Traveler strained the shield to its limits. A second time now. The boy exploded into light. The sunbeam emerged from him instead of the sky this time, and the Major's eyes burned. Hissing, he went to the floor, tears streaming even as the world outside went dark. He wasn't blind. He could still see. The shield had done that, the entire thing turning dark, adjusting on the fly.

He forced his eyes open even as the light felt like fingers pressing into his pupils. The shield's edge shuddered, shrieked, and burst into colors that felt like searing pokers to the eyes. But it held. It burned and turned translucent again so he could see beyond it. He resisted the urge to stare directly at the traveler. The ground next to the Chosen of the Sun Goddess exploded into a plume of earth. Some artillery crew had placed their shell well. Conventional fire support had finally arrived.

The Traveler stumbled back a foot from twenty pounds of explosive detonating in his face. The sunbeam cut off. Another shell landed behind him, failing to move him even as the explosion showered the Traveler in dirt. Can you not die? The Major thought, watching as the Traveler danced in between death. To his frustration, the Traveler continued to survive, heading back into the forest even as more shells landed. The shells continued forward, creeping into the forest itself as they drove the Travelers backward.

It wouldn't last. Barrels would heat up, then need to cool. Eventually, Aetherean counterbattery would start up even if they mostly used it to mop up Trost. Something caught his eye. Armored figures moving along the side of the bridge. He turned to get the attention of the engineers. They needed to detonate the ammo now. Pain blossomed in his back, and he stumbled forwards towards the edge of the roof. An arrow has hit you for 68 damage. Your heart has taken 18 damage. You are suffering from Blood Loss.