Dragon Mage 014 - Victory (Patreon)

391 days until the Arkon Shield falls

Overworld is too dangerous for the humans to survive on their own. Let them come to us with caps in hand. Or perish through their own folly. —Unknown royal advisor.

I limped after Michael and re-joined the line.

While we waited for the next attack, I rolled up my leather vest and inspected the jagged wound in my lower back. The spear hadn’t penetrated deep and the bleeding had slowed. I breathed easier. It seemed I would live.

Yet the wound still throbbed each time I moved. In the first few moments after the attack, fear and adrenaline had masked the pain, but now… now I wondered if I could still fight. I glanced at the gathering murluks and felt my expression harden. There was no choice.

It was fight or run. And I would not flee.

I turned my focus inwards and checked my player progress in the Trials core. During the last murluk wave my body had gone through further enhancements, and I had gained more knowledge. Calling up the Trials alerts, I reviewed the changes.

You have gained in experience and are now a: level 6 Neophyte.

Your agility has increased to: level 3.

Your strength has increased to: level 4.

Your skill using light armour has advanced to: level 1.

Your skill with spears has advanced to: level 7.

I was stronger, faster, tougher, and had become more adept with my weapon. At any other time, I would have been astounded by the changes to myself. But now? Now I despaired I still hadn’t learned enough to survive the next wave.

I leaned on my spear and bowed my head. When will this battle end? I wondered. All I had done since coming to Overworld was fight or wait to fight. Earth seemed a long way away now. Is every day on this world going to be like this?

“Get ready,” shouted Michael.

I looked up. The murluks had begun their advance.

Grimacing at the pain my movement caused, I brought up my spear and held it ready while watching the oncoming horde.

There were so many. And this time, neither I nor the rest of the men on this part of the line had Tara to protect us. “Can we hold them?” I asked Michael.

“Forget the bigger picture, fish,” replied Michael. “Just keep your position in the wall.” But the slight tremble in his hands betrayed his own nerves.

He doesn’t think we’re going to survive.

I looked along the lines of men on the right flank, at their dispirited gazes, weary stances, and drooping weapons. How many of them will die in the next few minutes? I wondered. Too many.

I glanced at the murluks and contemplated a crazy idea. If I am going to die here, what do I have to lose? I bit my lip. Nothing.

Shrugging, I charged.

Well, it was more of a fast hop, really, a not-so-funny parody of the murluks’ own gaits, but it was the fastest speed I could manage. The system thought so too.

Your agility has increased to: level 4.

I chuckled darkly at the Trials’ message.

“Jamie, get back here! What do you think you are doing, you stupid fish?” Michael growled from behind me.

I ignored him. My eyes were fixed on the fast-approaching murluks. I fancied I could see the creatures’ eyes widen, amazed by the sight of the lone human charging them.

I grinned. Almost knee deep in the river now, I stopped. I had advanced far enough away from our lines. Planting my feet in the muddy river-bottom, I crouched low and held my spear at the ready. Waiting.

I only have to keep my feet, I reminded myself.

The murluks drew closer. Tens of spears were hefted in the air and held ready to skewer the foolish human in their path. Watching the creatures through narrowed eyes, I waited until the last second.

Now, I thought and cast invincible.

Opening my magesight, I called on my spirit. Energy erupted out of my inner being and wove through my body, both inside and out. In a split second, my physical form was overlaid with a second one of impermeable spirit that was invisible to normal sight, but glowed radiant silver in my magesight.

Invincible activated. You are immune to all damage for: 30 seconds.

Spears hurtled towards me. I itched to raise my own weapon in defence, but bit back the instinct and let the wall of spears land unhindered.

It was much harder to do than I thought.

I squeezed my eyes shut at the moment of impact. The ping of sharpened metal tips as they clanged off my spirit form’s hardened shell was music to my ears. I smiled. It worked! I had believed it would, but that was vastly different from knowing.

My eyes flew open.

Murluks were converging on me from all sides. I dug my feet deeper into the mud underfoot and waited for the momentum of their charge to expend itself. I knew the greatest danger—in the next thirty seconds at least—was to be knocked down and trampled by the press of bodies above. But the frog creatures weighed little and their charge had little momentum behind it.

I held my ground more easily than I’d expected. Once the weight pressing against me eased, I raised my head. Now let’s see how much damage I can do, I thought as I hit back at the murluks.

My spear slid smoothly into the throat of my nearest foe. I leaned into the blow, ignoring the press of bodies and repeated jabs that bounced harmlessly off me. With a wet gurgle, the murluk died. Wrenching back my weapon, I thrust it out and sought bared flesh again.

The murluks swirled around me. Converging on their trapped quarry, they struck at me from all sides, not understanding why their attacks were failing.

My ploy was proving more successful than I hoped.

I had expected at least some of the murluks to be distracted away from the human lines by my presence in their midst. What I had not anticipated was for all of them to abort their attack and fall on me instead.

The human captains commanding the northern section, though, were alive to the opportunity I had created. Seeing that I held the attention of the nearby murluks, I heard a voice shout, “To me! Charge! Strike them down from behind!”

I hoped Michael and the rest of his fellows on the flank heeded the call, because if they didn’t, I would be dead soon. But I had no control over what they did. I had to focus on my own actions, and do what I could to make sure I survived.

Narrowing my focus, I concentrated on inflicting as much hurt upon the murluks as I could. Thrust and pull. Rinse and repeat. Over and over again, I jabbed down on the much shorter creatures with no care for defence at all.

My foolish gambit was not without its own share of benefits. While, I fought, a constant stream of Trials messages scrolled through my vision.

You have gained in experience and are now a: level 8 Neophyte.

Your constitution and strength have increased to: level 5.

Your vigour has increased to: level 4.

Your skill using light armour has advanced to: level 6.

Your skill with spears has advanced to: level 8.

I grinned wryly. It seemed facing hundred-to-one odds—and surviving—was a good way to gain experience on Overworld. If I walk away from this alive, at least I will be stronger for the experience.

I picked up my head at a formless roar. It was the human fighters crashing into the murluks converged around me.

Finally, I thought. Invincible wasn’t going to last much longer. Even so, I was not sure that the right flank’s charge was going to be enough to save me.

But it was always a gamble to begin with. I returned my attention to my bloody work and focused on reaping as grim a harvest as I could. My arms moving mechanically up and down, I slaughtered indiscriminately.

As the spearmen’s attacks began to bear fruit, the pressure pushing against me eased. The human fighters had formed a half circle around the murluks and were dealing death, quickly and efficiently. I began to hope I might yet survive.

Then my aura of invincibility faded.

The blows raining down from all sides no longer bounced off. I jerked fitfully as sharpened blades bit into me and fresh waves of pain assaulted me. In a handful of seconds, my health plummeted. I lived, but that wouldn’t hold true for much longer.

Hunkering down and weaving my spear defensively, I forwent attacking altogether.

More murluk blows landed on me, though they were more sporadic now. The weight pressing against the creatures from their rear was too great for them to ignore anymore, and they swung around to face their attackers.

I began to dodge, parry, and weave in earnest, desperately trying to stay alive long enough for help to get through. But in the end, it wasn’t my own actions that saved me, or even the human fighters straining to reach me.

It was the murluks themselves.

The battle had reached its tipping point and the creatures had had enough. Throwing down their weapons, they turned and fled. Reaching deeper water, the murluks dove beneath the waves and took refuge in its depths.

I gasped in relief and fell to my knees. I’ll be damned, I thought, I actually survived. Swaying, I gave way to exhaustion and the encroaching darkness, then fell face first into the mud.

✽✽✽

Consciousness returned slowly.

Where am I? Waves slapped against my side. Still on the river shore, then. Water splashed on my face. I groaned.

“You hear that?” someone asked.

I didn’t recognise the voice. More water was thrown on my face. I sputtered feebly and tried to escape whoever tormented me, but couldn’t move. I was too weak.

“Is he alive?” the voice asked again.

“Of course he is alive, you idiot. Do you think dead men cough?”

My eyes were closed. Dear God, I’m tired. My body ached everywhere, and blood soaked my clothes and armour—much of it my own. Leave me alone, I wanted to scream at my tormentors, but couldn’t get the words out. Let me sleep.

“Who knows what he is! You saw what he did? Can men do that?” continued the first voice.

“Shut up, Sten. He’s just a kid. A human kid. Any fool can see that.”

“But you saw—”

“Enough!” growled the second voice, the whip of authority unmistakable in his voice. “One more word out of you and you’ll be on latrine duty for the rest of the week.”

I blew out an irritated breath. Why couldn’t these fools just leave me be?

“You hear that?” Sten muttered. “He’s making strange noises again. We shouldn’t be so close.”

The other ignored him. “Who is this fellow, Michael?” he asked in a low whisper. I sensed he was kneeling beside me. “You seemed to know him.”

“I don’t know, Sarge,” replied Michael. He was bent over me too. “Just some kid I met before the battle. Crippled. I felt sorry for him.”

Before the sergeant could reply, a disturbance drew the attention of the two men.

“What’s going on here, Lloyd?” demanded a voice I recognized as Tara’s. I felt the shadows of the two men fall over me as they rose to their feet and turned to face the stern fighter.

“It’s your fish, Tara,” Michael answered in the sergeant’s stead.

“My fish?” Tara asked. She dropped down by my side. “What happened?” she growled.

I winced. Even with me knocking on death’s door, I could sense she was displeased.

“I don’t know,” Lloyd answered. “You saw the disturbance on our flank? When the murluks aborted their charge?”

Lloyd shook his head. “It was your boy here.”

“What?”

“He charged out of our lines and lured the murluks to him.” Lloyd paused, as if unable to believe his next words. “Then he held their attention for what must have been close on a minute. And he lived to tell the tale.”

“Impossible!” snapped Tara.

“What the cap’n says is true, Tara. We all saw it,” Michael said.

Tara fell silent for a moment. “Are you telling me,” she said, her voice scathing, “that this untrained boy, who can no more run than I can fly, and who less than an hour ago didn’t know one end of a spear from another, held the murluks at bay, all on his own? For a minute?” She laughed. “What do you two take me for?”

“It’s true, Tara,” Michael repeated stubbornly.

I sighed. I was still both alive and awake. It didn’t seem like I was going to go peacefully to my rest anytime soon. It was past time I entered the conversation.

Before Tara’s bites off their heads.

The pair had likely saved my life, after all, and they didn’t deserve a chewing out from Tara for that. Forcing my eyes open, I blinked them rapidly until Tara and the two men swam into focus.

“It’s true, Tara,” I croaked.

Tara’s hawk-eyed stare swung my way. “Jamie, you’re awake!” She frowned a moment later, realising what I had said. “What do you mean it’s true?”

I waved her closer until she leaned down over me, her face right up to mine. “I have a Technique,” I whispered so that only she could hear. “Invincible. It makes me impervious to damage. It’s why I didn’t start with a Clean Slate. Don’t tell anyone.”

Tara stared at me, her face expressionless. “Why didn’t you use it earlier?” she whispered back.

“Couldn’t,” I replied. “It can only be used once per day, and it only lasts thirty seconds.”

“Alright,” she said, leaning back. “We’ll talk more of it later. Rest now, our medic is on the way.” She squeezed my arm. “Oh, and thank you. You quite possibly saved us all today.” Patting my arm one more time, Tara stood up. “Sergeant Lloyd, have some food brought to him. Michael, go see what’s keeping the medic.”

Both men ran off to do her bidding. I tried to speak again, but Tara shushed me. Relieved that I was finally being allowed to rest, I tried to let myself fade back into darkness. But now that I had opened my eyes, sleep eluded me.

After a frustrated minute, I gave up on the idea of rest altogether. Straining with the effort, I raised my head and took stock of my surroundings. I saw that I had been dragged a few yards away from the lapping water but was still on the river’s lower banks. I craned my head in both directions, but didn’t catch sight of any murluks. It seemed the battle was over.

Thank God, I thought, letting my head fall back. To keep myself distracted from the pain spiking through my body, I turned my focus inwards to the Trials core. Another pile of messages had gathered. I scanned through them.

You have gained in experience and are now a: level 9 Neophyte.

Your vigour and agility have increased to: level 5.

Your strength has increased to: level 6.

Your constitution has increased to: level 10 and reached: rank 2, Trainee.

Your skills with spears and light armour have advanced to: level 10 and reached: rank 2, Trainee.

Alert: Trainee-ranked Attributes and Disciplines do not benefit from the newcomer buff or the accelerated learning rates applied at the Neophyte rank.

The learning rate of your Attribute: constitution, and your Disciplines: spears, and light armour, have decreased.

Not bad for an hour’s work, I thought. Already, I felt more capable of facing Overworld’s challenges. I still have no magic though. If I am going to—

I flinched as my side throbbed again from an errant twitch. Dismissing the Trials messages, I turned my attention to my injuries and cast analyse upon myself.

Your health pool is at: 24% of maximum.

I chuckled. I was not nearly as far gone as I had thought. While my health was low, and my wounds numerous, my condition appeared stable.

It seemed I was going to live.

Sergeant Lloyd returned. “Here, kid, eat this,” he said, dropping down next to me. “It will restore your stamina. Until Nic bandages you up, I’m afraid this is the best we can do for you.”

Lloyd looked as fresh-faced as Tara and Michael, but if his words were anything to go by, he was no eighteen-year-old boy. I will have to stop judging people’s ages by their faces. For all I knew, Lloyd was in his sixties.

A little later, Michael returned with another man. Unlike the others, the man was not dressed in armour, and carried only a large leather bag strapped across his back. “What do we have here, Tara?” asked the stranger.

“New recruit that needs bandaging. Doesn’t seem like he has suffered any serious injuries. Just exhaustion.”

The stranger bent over me. “Hi there. I’m Nicholas, and what passes for a medic on this world. Can I take a look at your wounds?”

“Sure, Doc,” I replied. “I’m Jamie.”

“I can’t claim to be a doctor, at least not anymore,” replied Nicholas absently as he began to inspect me. “I wish my old skills were still as useful, but without Earth’s technology they aren’t of much value on this world. It seems that, just like everyone else, I am going to have to learn the Overworld way of doing things.”

I nodded, understanding what he meant.

Nicholas finished his inspection, then sat back. “Your condition isn’t too bad. Your weakness is mostly from blood loss and exhaustion, which we can treat easily enough. Your wounds themselves aren’t severe. The slash across your back is the worst, but even that is only superficial.” Rifling through his bag, he pulled out some homemade bandages and a greenish paste.

“How long do you need, Nic?” Tara asked.

“Twenty minutes, tops,” promised Nicholas. “I’ll have him up and walking after that. Then he is all yours.”