The situation at Checkpoint One, 400 miles from the Citadel, was desperate.
Tens of thousands of orcs surged forward like a tide of death, chasing 400,000 fleeing civilians. Overhead, wyverns ridden by dark elves circled, picking off stragglers and spreading terror among the people below.
The civilians, driven by panic, created chaos in their attempt to escape. Fear turned their flight into a disorganized stampede, resulting in countless casualties. Among them, a contingent of thirty magus protectors struggled to maintain order and fend off the relentless orc assault.
"Major! What are your orders? Major Zoller!"
The shout broke through the cacophony of battle, but the grand magus hesitated. His usually steady deanor faltered as he grasped the dire reality of their situation.
Realizing the futility of their current position, Zoller made a snap decision. "Fall back! Retreat to the outpost on the higher ground! Call for reinforcents from the Citadel! And send word to Ruins City Oupost!"
The magus forces moved swiftly, spreading out among the panicked civilians. They called out for the Valeryn people to stand their ground and fight back, but the response was muted. The overwhelming number of orcs, combined with the ferocity of their assault, left most too terrified to act.
It was a massacre. Orcs rampaged unchecked, slaughtering any who crossed their path. The magus protectors did their best, but the odds were insurmountable. Dark elf warriors joined the fray, exploiting the chaos to single out and eliminate the magus one by one.
Zoller himself unleashed his flying weapons, enchanted tools of destruction that carved through dozens of orcs at a ti and brought down wyvern riders from the sky. Despite his valiant efforts, the civilians' ranks thinned with each passing mont.
Through it all, Zoller kept his senses sharp. His spirit reading detected the presence of a powerful figure lurking among the enemy forces—a grand magus. He barked orders to his remaining troops, rallying them to hold the line and buy precious ti. He cast defensive spells, creating barriers that slowed the orcs' advance and shielded those within his reach.
But it was clear that without reinforcents, their position would fall.
####
At the Citadel, news of the crisis reached General Wayne. The grim reality of Checkpoint One's plight was laid bare, and among those hearing it was Princess Miriel of Valeryn. Her voice trembled as she pleaded with the general.
"General! Please, save my people!" Tears stread down her face, her anguish palpable. "Send ! Let help them!"
Wayne shook his head, his expression somber. "Lady Miriel, you know I cannot allow that. please calm down!!, we cannot rush and fall under the enemy plot!"
"But we cannot stand by while they are slaughtered!" Miriel's voice cracked with desperation.
The general sighed deeply. He understood her pain but knew the stakes all too well. Sending forces from the Citadel would weaken its defenses and provide the elves the opening they sought. Dispatching grand magus officers was equally dangerous, as they would likely be hunted down by the enemy's grand magus.
In the tense silence that followed, a thought occurred to him. A na surfaced in his mind.
"Send word to Magus Ery."
####
Miles away, Ery was locked in battle with an elven patrol near Checkpoint Three. His acolytes from Halls 6 and 9 worked relentlessly alongside him, ensuring the safe passage of the eighth batch of civilians. The air was thick with tension, and the cries of battle echoed across the desolate terrain.
An urgent ssage crackled through the communication device:
[Priority Mission: Imdiate Assistance Required]
The severity of the situation was clear. His acolytes, eager to assist, asked to join the mission. Ery, however, sternly refused. Turning to Klea, he gave her a aningful look, one that spoke volus. Without hesitation, he cast a spatial gate and stepped through with a magus squad, heading for the embattled checkpoint.
On the other side of the portal, chaos reigned. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning flesh and the cries of desperate civilians. The Major's forces were stretched thin, and the sounds of clashing weapons rang across the battlefield. As Ery's spatial gate materialized, a panicked shout erupted.
"Spatial anomaly detected!! … It's our reinforcents!"
The arrival was t with both relief and tension. Major Zoller, his armor sared with blood and gri, stord toward Ery, his voice harsh with frustration.
"Lieutenant! Is this all you can bring?" he demanded, his eyes scanning the modest reinforcents.
Ery didn't rise to the provocation, his voice calm but commanding. "We don't have much ti. I'll open a gate to safety—get the civilians through now!"
Summoning his full power, Ery focused his energy. The ground beneath him cracked as magical formations materialized, amplifying his efforts. With a roar, a vast spatial gate shimred into existence, its light illuminating the battlefield.
Ery created the largest spatial gate he could muster. The shimring portal connected the desperate scene at Checkpoint One to the safety of Checkpoint Three, nearly 600 miles away with the help of his stone formation.
"Everyone!! "Move quickly and in an orderly manner!"
The civilians hesitated for a mont, their fear and disbelief evident. Then, the first brave souls stepped through and disappeared into the shimring portal.
Civilians began streaming through the gate, their fear montarily giving way to hope.
But the strain of maintaining such a massive and long-distance portal quickly took its toll on Ery. He tapped into the power of Khaos, drawing on its chaotic energy to sustain the gate.
anwhile, Major Zoller and his remaining troops fought valiantly, working in unison to keep the advancing enemy forces at bay. Orcs crashed against their defensive barriers like a relentless tide, but the magus protectors held firm, weaving protection spells to shield both the retreating civilians and Ery as he worked.
Despite their combined efforts, the evacuation was slow. The panic among the civilians and the sheer volu of people made the process agonizingly inefficient. After ten exhausting minutes, Ery had only managed to send 30,000 civilians through the portal. It wasn't nearly enough.
Then, disaster struck.
A sudden burst of energy shattered the defensive barrier protecting the gate. From the chaos, an elven warrior stepped forward, activating a disruptor. The artifact emitted a wave of energy that destabilized Ery's magic, collapsing the spatial gate.
From the shadows, dozens of elven figures erged with calculated precision, their movents graceful yet nacing. Their leader, an imposing figure whose aura marked him as a grand magus, stepped forward. His eyes glead with malice as he surveyed the battlefield, locking onto Ery with a predatory smile.
"So, the savage magus finally arrived. We've been waiting for you."
The ssage was clear; apparently the bait had not been set solely for the Citadel forces—it had been crafted specifically for Ery as well.
User Comments
0 comments from readers