Chương 20: Fight in the Courtyard

Giles was a brave man, but he was not a fool. As he charged forward with his wood-axe, his eyes were on the Fire Mage. The bandit mage was just a few paces past the broken wooden gates. A bright orange light was in the palms of his hands. The air around the mage's fingers was warped and distorted by the intense heat. Giles knew exactly what was coming. He had seen the massive explosion that shattered the barricades just moments ago. A regular man with a wooden axe had no chance against a wall of magical flames.

"Get back!" Giles roared to the men behind him, trying to dig his boots into the snow to halt his charge. But the Fire Mage was already thrusting his hands forward. A massive torrent of flames was in the air, rushing directly toward the big carpenter and his men. The heat was like a wall, threatening to roast them alive in the middle of the winter snow. Giles squeezed his eyes shut and raised his arms, fully expecting to die. But the flames never reached him. A dark shadow was suddenly in front of Giles.

It was Bones. The heavily armored mage of the Frost-Grip family had stepped directly into the line of fire. The blast of flames slammed directly into Bones' bucket-helm and chainmail. The fire was all around the mage creating a swirling inferno of heat and light. To Giles, looking from behind, it was an impossible sight. The back of the dark wool tabard on the giant was instantly singed away, but the man inside did not scream. He did not drop to the snow to roll.

He did not even take a single step backward from the force of the blast. Instead, Bones was walking forward. From the perspective of the Fire Mage, the sight was pure terror. The mage was pouring every ounce of his Grey Core mana into the stream of fire. He was sweating heavily, his face twisted in a desperate sneer. He expected the armored defender to melt, to scream, to collapse into a pile of cooked flesh and hot iron. But the iron giant was simply marching through the flames.

The heavy chainmail and the thick iron bucket-helm were glowing a dull cherry-red from the sheer intensity of the heat. The snow beneath the giant's iron boots was turning instantly to steam. Yet, the narrow, dark eye-slit of the helm was fixed directly on the mage.

"What is this thing?!" the Fire Mage panicked in his own mind. His hands were shaking. His mana reserves were dropping rapidly.

"No human can survive this! His blood should be boiling! His lungs should be scorched!" Up on the stone balcony, Jack was holding the railing tightly. His eyes were closed. His mind was entirely focused on the grey thread connected to Bones. The fire did not hurt the skeleton, but the elemental energy of the spell was violently crashing against Jack's magical connection.

"Do not stop," Jack commanded through the link.

"Raise your fist. Strike him down." Through the empty eye sockets of the skeleton, Jack saw the terrified face of the Fire Mage. The man was completely out of options. The Fire Mage finally cut off the stream of flames, his chest heaving with exhaustion. The young man had recently awakened his core and was entirely inexperienced with managing his mana. By pouring so much raw energy into a single, continuous attack, his reserves were almost empty. He stumbled backward, slipping slightly on the slush.

Seeing the glowing-red iron giant raising a massive fist, the young mage frantically crossed his arms in front of his chest. He pushed the last remnants of his mana outward. A shimmering, transparent wall of hot, condensed air was suddenly in front of the mage. It was a magical heat-shield. It was designed to deflect arrows and turn the edges of regular swords away by using a dense layer of thermal pressure. Bones did not have a sword. He had an eighty-pound iron suit and the raw, unyielding strength of the undead.

Bones swung his heavy, iron-gloved fist forward. The glowing-red iron hit the magical heat-shield. For a fraction of a second, the transparent wall of air resisted. But a heat-shield was meant to deflect light, fast attacks. It could not stop the tireless mass of a giant skeleton swinging with absolute force. With a loud, popping sound, the magical shield shattered. The heavy iron fist slammed directly into the center of the Fire Mage's chest.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The impact was devastating. The sound of breaking ribs was loud in the courtyard. The Fire Mage was lifted completely off his feet by the force of the blow. He flew backward through the air, landing in the deep snow several yards away. He did not get back up. His chest was completely caved in, and his life was extinguished instantly. The courtyard went completely silent for a brief moment.

Kael, the leader of the Bandits, was just a few feet away from the breach. His sword was in his hand. A few seconds ago, he was confident. He was ready to slaughter the peasants and claim the castle. But now, his eyes were wide as he looked at the crushed body of the young mage.

"What kind of useless fodder did you give me, Father?" Kael thought bitterly, he gripped hilt of his sword even harder. His fear was quickly being replaced by a boiling rage." If only my own core hadn't been sealed by those church bastards, I would have murdered every single one of these peasants myself." He looked at the towering giant. Bones was standing over the fallen mage. The iron armor was still glowing cherry-red, hissing as snowflakes landed on the hot metal.

The giant had just walked through a deadly firestorm and crushed a mage with a single punch, and he was not even breathing heavily.

"Monsters..." Kael whispered, taking a slow step backward. On the other side of the breached gates, the chaos was just as brutal. Rusty was completely surrounded by five bandits. The men were stabbing wildly with their swords and spears. The weapons were striking Rusty's chainmail. Sparks were flying into the air, but the iron rings were too dense to penetrate. Rusty did not use martial arts since Jack didn't know any. He simply followed Jack's direct mental commands.

The average-sized skeleton reached out and grabbed the coat of a bandit who was thrusting a spear. Rusty lifted the grown man with one hand. With a jerky motion, Rusty hurled the bandit directly into two of his comrades, sending all three men crashing to the icy ground in a tangle of limbs and weapons. Giles and the militia were watching this from a few yards back. Their axes were in their hands, but they were hesitant to step into the fray.

The display of terrifying power from their lord's 'mages' was awe-inspiring, but it was also deeply unsettling. The villagers were cheering for their defenders, but a deep fear was also in their hearts. They were glad the iron giants were on their side, but they were terrified of what was inside that armor.

"Push them back!" Giles finally roared, rallying his men.

"Don't let them past the gates! Support the mages!" The militia surged forward, using the gaps that Rusty and Bones created to strike at the disorganized bandits. The tide of the battle was turning rapidly. Without the Fire Mage to break the lines, the bandits were losing their courage. They were slipping on the ice, their weak and starved bodies failing against the somewhat healthy, highly motivated village militia and the two unyielding iron warriors. But the battle was not over.

The Wind Mage was near the back of the bandit ranks. He was an older man. He lacked the talent to ever advance past the Grey Core, but decades of survival had made him highly experienced. He looked at the dead body of his young, foolish partner, and then at the glowing-red giant slowly turning its dark bucket-helm toward him.

"Those are definitely not human," the Wind Mage thought. His experienced eyes were locked onto the movements of the iron giants.

"Are they golems? Stone golems stuffed inside heavy armor?" If they were golems, an Earth Mage was nearby pulling the strings. A Bronze or Iron Core mage wouldn't need to hide behind castle walls; they were powerful enough to march out and crush a bandit mob openly. The caster was hiding because he was weak—likely just a Grey Core mage like himself.

"But to animate two golems and control them with such flawless precision at the Grey Core stage... the hidden mage was incredibly talented." He did not let panic consume his mind. He knew destructive magic was useless against these iron monsters. He needed a tactical disruption. The Wind Mage raised his wooden staff high into the air. He slammed the bottom of the staff onto the frozen earth. He poured a steady stream of his remaining mana into the air around the courtyard.

A violent, localized blizzard was suddenly in the courtyard. It was not a normal winter wind. It was a concentrated gale of raw elemental magic designed specifically to control the battlefield. The wind howled ripping through the breached gates and sweeping across the castle yard in a massive, swirling circle. Giles was hit first. The sheer force of the wind lifted him clean off his feet, tossing him backward into the snow. The rest of the militia was knocked down like wooden pins.

They scrambled on the ground, covering their faces as sharp shards of ice, and burning splinters from the shattered barricade were caught in the swirling vortex. Visibility dropped to absolutely zero. A thick, white wall of snow and debris was everywhere. The villagers could not see the bandits, and the bandits could not see the villagers. Up on the stone balcony, Jack was holding onto the railing with a desperate grip. The wind was pulling at his heavy cloak, trying to drag him over the edge.

But the wind was the least of his problems. The violent, elemental disruption of the Wind Mage's highly controlled spell was wreaking absolute havoc on Jack's spiritual connections. The threads linking his soul to Bones and Rusty were caught in the magical storm. The static feedback was agonizing. A searing pain was behind Jack's eyes. It felt as though someone was dragging an iron nail across his brain. He coughed violently, his body shaking from the strain.

A thick line of warm blood was suddenly running from his nose, dripping down his chin and staining his collar. His damaged spiritual channels, already weakened from the backlash in the crypts earlier that morning, were being pushed to their absolute breaking point by the older mage's experienced spell.

"I cannot lose them," Jack gasped to himself, his vision swimming with dark spots.

"If I drop the link. The secret dies." He forced himself to keep his eyes open, staring into the blinding white storm below. He tightened his mental grip on the two grey threads, fighting through the blinding pain. He had to end this quickly. He had to find the Wind Mage and break the spell before his own mind shattered.

"Bones. Rusty," Jack projected into the chaotic mental void, his thoughts a beacon of unyielding command.

"Walk through the wind. Find the mage. End him."