Chapter 144: Running Late
The third year was starting tomorrow. It was the worst time to be stuck fighting a demon, especially when Wulf and the others were still a day's trek away from Centralis and the Academy.
But they couldn't just leave the city of Lonica to die.
There were a couple hundred thousand residents behind its ancient wall (a small, four-storey-high wall, suitable for keeping out a host of regular-sized demons, but ineffective against colossal fiends), and only two Oroniths to watch over the city. Iron-tier Oroniths.
Which wasn't going to cut it against a horde of three Silver-tier fiends.
"You're sure we can't go back to the Academy and get backup?" Irmon asked, his voice rattling through the communications construct.
"We've taken out worse," Wulf replied, looking out Wraith's cockpit glass. His feet churned forward, and his golem lurched in its harness. He pushed against the panels of the golem, controlling the Oronith through his dream-link and making it sprint across the countryside.
He was pretty sure he was running through a vineyard at the moment, but it was better that than plowing through the city. Soldiers swarmed along the walls, wearing red uniforms and mismatched Byrante armour. They drew back bows and rained arrows down on the lesser demons trying to scale the walls.
For now, the city was safe, as long as the demons didn't break its outer walls.
Wulf turned Wraith's short swords over in its hands. To mimic the daggers, he used his own xerion scissors, separated into their two halves, just so he could feel something of similar weight in his controlling golem's hands.
The two local Oroniths were modelled similar to the local soldiers, but entirely out of beige sandstone. Stone mimicked lamellar armour and shoulder panels. One carried a tower shield made of titanwood and a spear, and the other carried a longsword, but neither had any augmented armour like Wraith did.
They stood on the west side of the city, out in the rolling green hills of the late Byrante summer. In the distance, Wulf could still see the coast, and the fallen demon-sphere that the beasts had come from, resting slightly offshore.
Currently, the Wraith circled around the north side of the city, its armour glinting in the direct sun, and stone sweltering below. Wulf set the closest demon directly in his sights.
"Careful," Kalee warned, slotted into the mage's harness beside him. "You must be running low on mana."
"How could he not be?" Seith exclaimed through the communications construct. "We just did a mission three days out from here, and he's only had evenings to recover mana." She paused. "But I'm not seeing any sign of wavering channels and rune-lines out here yet."
"I'm a quarter full," Wulf said, jumping over a road and a stream of panicked wagon drivers trying to get to safety behind Lonica's walls.
"Still a quarter?" Irmond asked.
"I was only walking through the morning," Wulf said. "And it's only afternoon now."
"That only is doing some heavy lifting," Seith groaned.
They'd been out on missions almost all summer. Official, academy-sanctioned missions, not missions given to them by the guards. For these missions, they were required to use an Oronith.
Most were hunting down stray fiends that got lost in the wilds, before they could hit a village and wipe it off the map. This mission had been exactly that, but it wasn't supposed to take as long. They'd spent an extra week tracking the fiend, and now, on the way back, this.
The way Wulf saw it, it was some extra mana for them. But he understood that the others were tired, and they'd used all the potions he'd prepared before the mission.
Still, over the summer, he'd advanced to High-Iron, and though Wraith was still registering as Middle Silver with the Field, three fiends shouldn't have been an issue. The advancement hadn't given him any new skills or upgrades, but it'd let him upgrade two Marks—both of which he funnelled into the Grand Mark he'd earned at the end of last semester.
The first fiend collided with the shield-wielding Oronith, slamming a crude black axe against the shield. The Oronith's arms were buckling, but it ducked to the side and grazed the fiend with its spear.
The sword-wielding Oronith was about to jump in, but a second fiend hit it from the side with a club, sending it staggering away and breaking the two Oroniths' formation. The third fiend had no hands. Its forearms ended in massive black boulders, which it swung fast enough to make the air burn around its edges. It raised them, preparing to slam both the stones into the staggering sword-wieldering Oronith.
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Wulf charged from the side, stabbing both blades into the fiend's back and wrenching it to the side.
Although Wraith was nowhere near as heavy as the fiend, the impact was enough to knock the fiend to the side. The sword Oronith pushed itself back up, joints cracking and creaking. It lunged, stabbing its sword into the boulder-hand fiend's gut.
The fiend spun around, flailing, but Wulf ducked, relying on the superior maneuverability and speed of Wraith. Instead of hitting him, it struck the club fiend in the shoulder.
Sending it tumbling toward the city wall. The club fiend lost its footing, and began slipping.
"No good," Kalee said.
"Slow it!" Wulf said quickly. There was no time for anything more polite.
She conjured a runic circle above it, conducting a spell Skill through the Wraith's limbs, and created a field of gravity counter to the regular tug. The fiend didn't fall as quickly.
It was just enough for Wulf to charge in and trigger their armour's ability. They'd taken plenty of hits, but he hadn't had a chance to release the stored energy. He delivered a pulse as he charged, releasing a pulse of force that knocked the fiend to the side. It fell harmlessly into a hill, shoulder digging a deep trench through the dirt.
The spear-wielding Oronith drove its weapon into the beast's neck before it could get up, and for good measure, Wulf slammed his daggers into its skull. Its horns shattered, and it stopped moving.
He didn't have any poison left in his blades. It wouldn't matter. Alchemy was excellent for hurting things much stronger than him.
But these fiends were the same as him. That meant they were as good as fodder.
"Look out!" Irmond shouted. "Behind you!"
He was circling above, flying on Speckles—his thrustwing—but he swooped down and fired an enhanced arrow into the boulder hand fiend's eye. It stopped and screeched, buying Wulf time to spin around and face it.
They may have been fodder, but he couldn't get cocky or complacent.
But he did have an idea. The axe fiend was recovering, and it was charging right at him. He led it away from the city, taking a few steps, then ducked under its swipe and pushed it back toward the boulder-hand fiend.
The boulder-hand fiend had been aiming for Wulf's head, but with another fiend pushed into it, it came up short. It slammed its bulbous hands into the back of the axe fiend, sending it flailing to the ground. The two other Oroniths converged, pinning it and killing it.
They'd enjoy the mana, Wulf hoped.
He looked back at the boulder fiend.
"Wulf, your rune-lines are starting to sputter," Seith said. "At this rate, we won't have enough to get back to the academy in time for classes…you can make about three more swings before we have to conserve mana."
Wulf grimaced. He'd start conserving mana now. "I've got a plan. Irmond, think you can take out its other eye?"
"On it," Irmond said. With a rush of air, he and his Thrustwing shot overhead.
"Kalee, can you pin its hands once it's blinded?"
"Will do," she said.
"Then it's just a matter of leaping in and stabbing its heart," Wulf said. Demons had…well, they didn't have hearts. They had an important internal smoke circulation organ that functioned somewhat like a lung, except it kept an internal loop inside them. If you hit it, it was usually enough to drop them dead. Problem was, they usually never gave you a clear shot at the center of their chest, and if they did, it was because their carapace was too thick to easily pierce.
But if they could get it to lean back just the right way…
"I'm going to be jumping in," Wulf warned. "Seith, I'm probably going to damage something in the legs on impact. Ready to make repairs?"
"Always…" she mumbled.
Wulf spun his short swords around, then began running forward. He held out his hand, so Kalee could aim the spell skill better.
Irmond swooped down ahead of them and fired an enhanced arrow with perfect precision, striking the fiend in its only functional eye. Its head listed back, and it leaned. The moment it reached back to help hold itself up, Kalee caught its hands with regular gravity manipulation, pulling them back and pinning it.
It also made the fiend's back arch, pulling apart the plates of its chest and exposing chinks in its thick armour—perfect for sticking a sword into.
Wulf leapt, holding a blade out to the side, then stabbed it into a chink in the armour. The fiend howled and screamed, falling backward. Black smoke leaked out its chest, along with steam and a spurt of oily blood. After a few seconds of shocked writhing, it fell still.
Chest heaving, Wulf stood up straight, then glanced around. The local Oroniths and the city could handle the rest.
"Good news is that Wraith's joints were designed to take that kind of stress and impact," Seith said. "Bad news is that you kicked up a lot of mud and dirt, and they're not designed to function with all their rune-lines clogged with squished unripe grapes."
Wulf winced. "Can you keep us moving?"
"Of course," she replied.
He shut his eyes and assessed his own core. He still had enough mana to make the Wraith move, and they still had to get back to the Academy. Running would be more taxing, and less efficient, so they might have to settle with being a few hours late.
"I…don't know how you do it," Irmond muttered. "But we're still going to be late, aren't we?"
"Yeah…" Wulf said sheepishly. "Fly back if you want."
"One, no way am I abandoning you," he said. "Two, Speckles can't make it that far in a single flight. She needs a shoulder to perch on."
"Then hop on," Wulf said. "We'll be there by tomorrow morning..."