Spiritbound [Spirit Magic, Military, Progression] (Book 1 Complete)

The low rumble of horns echoed in the halls, carried by a breeze that lifted the dust. Tucker stood beside his soldiers and gazed at the shadows that danced in the smoke. Shouting. Screaming. Voices that cried out in pain and order rang in their ears. The Empire's forces were forming ranks once more to prepare for another assault, and Tucker couldn't help but bitterly chuckle. Did the lives of their soldiers really mean so little that they would launch another attack?

There was only one goal left for Tucker, and it was to hold the line until his comrades made it out. Until the last bell tolled, signalling for the rest of them to retreat. But how many would make it out? He didn't know, but parts of him wished he knew.

"I never expected the vice-commander to be such a softie," Ray said with a smirk.

Tucker chuckled. "Can you blame him? He treats us like his brothers, and I'm sure you would've been in tears if the situation was reversed."

"I wouldn't cry for you idiots."

"I find that hard to believe."

The men around them released a soft chuckle. Their smiles shattered the darkness that gripped onto their hearts. No one knew when their last moments would be, but there was nothing more soothing than knowing they would leave the world with good company. The soldiers were all veterans of the bastion. Members who had spent most of their lives in the fortress city.

Yet they weren't just soldiers. They were farmers, bakers, fathers, sons, and so much more. People who had lived a life where every second mattered. A life that was filled with hope and love for those who cared about them. Tucker didn't understand those feelings at first. Throughout his entire life, he was nothing more than a bastard, a son who was shunned by his parents. Left to rot in the darkest corners of their manor. Every moment of his life was meant to prove that he existed.

To scream and say—I'm here. I'm alive… I matter…

He stared at his trembling hand that held onto his weapon. There was a time when he wanted to chase a dream. And yet now all he wished for was to live a little longer. To have gotten to know the men who followed him just a bit more. To hear their tales and cherish the moments that took his breath away.

However, that chance would never come. His time at the bastion was like the four seasons, and now winter had finally arrived. Max and Brian had retreated with the other soldiers. Besides Benjamin and a handful of Everheart Knights, they had lost most of their elite forces. If another Knight Order appeared, then they would most certainly face annihilation.

But there was no point in worrying about what-ifs. The only thing they could do now was focus on what was in front of them. Tucker raised his blade into the air as the men released a thunderous war cry that sent ripples across the blood-slick floor. They raised their weapons in unison, but not with fear and spite. But with courage and belief that those who lived on would continue their legacy.

"Let's show these bastards what it means to face the kingdom's finest!" Tucker roared.

The men's voices thundered in an instant. Their morale exploded with their weapons gleaming beneath the thunder. At the very front were the Everheart knights, and by their sides were groups of standard soldiers. Battle cries emerged from the Empire's ranks. The field of corpses trembled beneath their stampede. Yet the defenders braced before the coming onslaught. Their minds and souls had already prepared themselves for the worst.

Tucker glared at the entrance. Rain poured through the broken doors, and cries of metal grinding against stone entered his ears. The Empire's forces stepped into the scarlet halls where death lingered just above their shoulders, waiting to claim its next soul. He scanned their forces. A single cannoneer remained, and only seven archers stood on the platforms overhead.

Both sides locked gazes as their movements became sharper. The silence that took over the area carried more weight than words. There wasn't a large swarm of enemies rushing towards them anymore. Just a steady stream of soldiers entering the hall with the determination to break through.

With a single cannoneer, there wasn't a need to direct fire. In the long hall that spanned dozens of meters, the iron maws had free rein with their approaching foes, allowing Tucker to focus on the enemies at the front. As the Empire drew closer, the words from the enemy soldiers echoed in their ears. They kicked the ground running, charging at the Everheart forces.

"Laural of Merits is mine!"

The Empire's soldiers surged forward in disorganized ranks as the rain landed on their shining armor. They pushed against the blood and rain that stretched across the hall. Boots splashed and sank, dragging the soldiers' pace until each stride felt like they were wading through chains. The bodies spread on the floors turned into mountains they had to climb over—yet the ferocity in their eyes remained strong.

Tucker scoffed at the sight. The Laural of Merit was an honor given by the Empire to the soldiers who accomplished tasks deemed suicidal. The greatest military decoration possible, and in such cases, the only way to seize such achievements was by killing the enemy commander of a warring nation. One such as Tucker, who was given the highest authority within the bastion.

The soldiers rushed towards him, eyes fixed on the golden badge that hung on his hip. Yet he didn't waver. Tucker met the enemy head-on while calmly walking towards them. The Everheart knights remained by his side as the crackle of lightning filled the air. Like a comet shooting across the sky came Benjamin, the Knight Slayer of the Order. A champion with such martial prowess that even the knights of the Empire couldn't hold a candle to.

Marble tiles shattered as he came crashing down towards the center of the Empire's ranks. Bloodcurdling screams filled the air as bodies were torn into pieces with each swing of his great hammer. Steel clashed against iron, and for a moment, fear gripped the Empire's forces.

Tucker focused on the soldier running towards him. His opponent's pristine blade darted towards him with aura bursting from the tip. Yet Tucker had seen it all before. He stepped to the side and grabbed the man's wrist just as his blade passed him. Tucker led the momentum behind him as his sword cut through the air. In one clean arc, the man's head was sent rolling on the floor before the other soldiers could surround him. Tucker completed the circle, throwing the man's body right back at the Empire's forces.

The corpse smashed into the ranks of soldiers with a deafening bang as Tucker closed the distance. His blade shimmered with an emerald aura, and every swing left behind a trail of death. There wasn't a point in focusing on defense; his reserves were burning with each fleeting second. All that mattered was taking down as many of these bastards with him as he could.

A glint of silver caught Tucker's eye. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and instinct took over. His blade snapped out, striking the tip and deflecting the sword to the side. His hand shot out with aura surging between his fingers as they clamped a soldier's throat.

SNAP!

With one sharp twist, the bones cracked, dropping the man like a puppet whose strings had been cut. But there wasn't a moment to spare. Another blade whistled toward Tucker's neck, forcing him to bend his knees as steel shrieked across his shoulder plate. Tucker clenched a broken blade and hurled it towards the enemy soldier. A metallic sound rang out as it bounced off the surface of the man's breastplate. Yet before he could react, Tucker had already plunged his blade deep into his heart.

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A volley of cannons roared from the staircase, tearing into the soldiers surrounding him. Limbs and metal were sent flying in the air as the shockwave tore through the rain. Tucker threw his arms over his head as the explosion sent him flying back. He gritted his teeth as he skidded across the blood-soaked floor.

His sight wavered. The sound of footsteps drew closer from all directions. Shouting entered his ears through the haze as a man with messy red hair rushed to his side. Bodies fell with each swing as flames licked along the edge of his armor.

"Shit! Get him up!"

Tucker squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, then forced them open. He saw Ray fighting off several soldiers as something dragged him back. Arrows hissed above his head, skewering the foes rushing to claim his life. Defenders surged past him with their shields raised, driving the enemy back with every step.

"Tucker!" Ray shouted. "Tucker, god dammit, can you move!?"

Tucker glanced behind him, staring at the blazing greyhound that bit onto his collar. He nodded as Ray held out his hand. Without hesitating, Tucker grabbed hold of it before getting pulled to his feet.

"I'm… I'm good." He forced the words out while glaring at his foes. "What's our status?"

"There's too fucking many of them; we're practically getting swarmed but still somehow holding." Ray wiped the blood off his face before bashing the end of his hilt against the skull of an enemy soldier. "Knight Slayer is somehow pushing them back, but only God knows for how long."

"What about the bell? Has the signal been rung?"

"Not yet, at least."

Tucker watched as more and more soldiers flooded the halls. He clenched his fist and caught sight of Gale, soaring along the ceiling of the castle. He wanted to fire several spirit arrows at the enemy soldiers, but his arms were trembling too much. Tucker couldn't steady himself. The only way would be if Gale guided his aim just like before.

But it was far too dangerous for his spirit companion. One stray attack could sever their connection, and then he would suffer from spirit backlash, rendering him unable to use his essence. Yet as he gazed at Gale, it seemed like his companion was waiting for him. Wanting to help in any way possible.

Just like the time Gale guided his arrow towards the Golem's eye, maybe they could do the same thing once more. He held out his hand, brushing against the wind with his fingertips. Spirit essence flowed from his hand and manifested into a bright emerald bow. The howling wind pulled the breeze carrying the rain.

There were moments in Tucker's life when he found it hard to trust others. But not anymore. Gale had proven themselves, and now Tucker leaned on that bond more than ever before. With every last drop of essence within his heart, Tucker pulled back the bowstring, solidifying the energy into a single arrow.

The Empire's forces immediately caught sight of it and rushed towards him in desperation—but the defenders wouldn't let them. Shields clashed with steel as battle cries rang out from both sides. Tucker's men fought with every ounce of strength left in them, forcing the enemy back step by step. Every heartbeat they bought was a moment for their commander to finish what he had begun.

Ray stood to the side and carefully channeled his essence. Flames danced in his hands. And the moment Tucker released his bowstring, Ray threw the flames towards the emerald arrow, wrapping it in a blazing sheath.

The bell tolled as the scarlet arrow tore through the storm. Gale steadied its flight, guiding the currents as the projectile grew brighter and more radiant with every meter it crossed. By the time it swept over the defenders, the arrow had transformed—its shape unfurling into a hawk with wings stretching to the outer walls. It soared proudly through the ruined halls. Fire shimmered like feathers along its body, carrying the winds that led its flight straight into the Empire's ranks.

When it struck, it felt like the world erupted. Enemy soldiers were consumed in an instant. Screams were swallowed by a wave of fire, and the stench of charred flesh lingered behind as the rain and blood hissed into steam. The inferno left only ash in its wake. Those who tried to flee were already too late, but the few who survived the destruction were those who sought shelter beneath the rubble and fallen.

Tucker couldn't believe his eyes as the Empire's forces armed themselves once more. To continue fighting despite everything that had been thrown at them was beyond irrational. Even for the Laurel of Merits, their tenacity was ridiculous. All the defenders stood there in disbelief; even Benjamin was at a loss for words.

"These insane fuckers!" Ray cursed.

"It doesn't matter, we're done here!" Tucker swung his arm to the side and pointed at the corridor leading to the teleportation platform. "Form ranks and fall back!"

What was left of the fourth and fifth groups gathered before Tucker. Their formation tightened as shields locked together with a hollow clang. The burning bodies made it harder for the Empire's forces to swarm them, but the foes that did get close made each retreating step hard-fought. Tucker stood alongside his men and picked up a shield, raising it to defend as another soldier attacked from behind.

Benjamin remained several paces behind them with blood dripping down his steel chest plate. The faint glow from the protection runes lit up with each swing of his hammer. Arrows whistled over Tucker's head as the archers grabbed the abandoned quivers in the hall. He could tell that the archers were struggling, gasping for air while returning fire back at the enemy.

Their aura had long been exhausted, and the flesh on their fingertips was torn open. Every stride backwards was drenched in desperation. The defenders fought back tooth and nail. Their breaths came in short gasps, and their arms felt like lead. Yet as they retreated into the narrow halls, a flicker of hope remained. The bells tolled once more, calling for them to return, and with each step, they did.

"We're almost there!" Ray shouted.

The ground shook as the Empire's forces clashed against their shields. Faces smeared with mud and sweat turned toward the men in retreat. Hatred blazed in the enemy's eyes, yet the defenders held in the narrow corridors. Their blades lashed out like vipers, and shields braced like sturdy walls refusing to fall. Blow after blow, Tucker's men withdrew.

Their survival was bought with only grit, blood, and the stubborn refusal to die. As a man in their ranks stumbled, two of his comrades hauled him upright. Filling the gap before the enemy could break through. Pikes thrust over the men's shoulders, and the pursuers began to slow.

"We've made it!" Ray cried out.

The words that came out of the watchmen's mouths caused the men to release a powerful battle cry. The joy in their voices filled the teleportation chamber, but Tucker remained silent. He knew they had made it. But with the enemy hot on their tail, there was no way for all of them to make it out. Tucker stood at the doorway with several other soldiers.

"Get to the platform!" Tucker ordered.

Many of the fourth and fifth groups had perished in the battle. Out of the two hundred soldiers who stood at the start, only fifty of them remained. Tucker swung his blade and cut down another enemy as blood gushed out of their wound.

The last defenders behind him sprinted towards the platform with every ounce of strength left in their bodies. The defense line was thinning by the second, yet Tucker stayed behind. He slashed down his sword, severing limbs with each swing. Voices echoed behind him, urging him to follow, but exhaustion had already taken over. Tucker was fighting with nothing more than sheer willpower—buying seconds with his life so others could escape.

It wasn't until he glanced to the side that he realized he wasn't alone. Benjamin stood shoulder to shoulder with him, with eyes that refused to yield. All the other defenders had made it to the platform, and seeing how it was just the two of them. Tucker couldn't help but smile.

"You should get out of here, Knight Slayer," Tucker said. "We still need you in this war."

Benjamin shook his head. "I'm afraid not, lad. Even if I tried, I'd never make it. My essence is spent, and I've only got a few more swings left in me before my aura runs dry."

A soft chuckle escaped Tucker's throat. "Then I guess this is it."

"It would seem so." Benjamin clenched his great hammer. "Commander, it's been an honor to fight alongside you."

"The pleasure's all mine."

Tucker watched as the Empire's forces rushed towards them. A smile filled with relief tugged at the corners of his lips. The soft platter of rain struck the windows of the castle, and an odd sense of peace swelled in his chest. For once, it felt like he had done something right, and seeing his men stand on the glowing platform only confirmed his belief.

He had fought for his country and its liberty. His sacrifice wasn't in vain. The lives he saved today would be the key to his homeland's survival. Yet as he resolved himself for his final moments, Tucker felt a hand grab onto his shoulder.

His eyes immediately darted to the side, and right beside him was Luka, staring at him with a smile filled with unwavering determination. A flood of emotions raced through Tucker's head, but before he could even think, Luka grabbed onto him and threw him towards the teleportation platform with all of his might.

"No!" Tucker's voice tore from his throat as his body flew backward. His hand shot out towards Luka, but his friend simply smiled.

"You said good soldiers follow orders." Luka's grin widened as if he had been waiting for this moment. "Well… great soldiers know when not to."

Tucker's body shook with rage and grief as the men on the teleportation platform caught him. Mana flowed into the engravings, locking him in place. The humming sound filled his ears as he screamed his heart out, desperately reaching out towards Luka. But all he could do was watch as his friend stood there with a smile on his face.

"I'll see you in the next life."

A flash of blue swallowed everything. The last moment Tucker saw was Luka standing there with his back towards him.

Luka held out his arm with his fist raised in the air, a gesture to show that he was unyielding to the very end.