Chapter 686: The Fires of Creation (1/2)
Chapter 686 The Fires of Creation
“Sure the boss won’t notice?” Grahn asked. The barkeep of the Somber Core Smithy glanced around the dimly lit room. Three people were present, one passed out and two entranced within a deep conversation about sword enchantments.
Bralin downed his whiskey. He looked at the dwarf and grinned. “You know him. When have you last seen him working on his machine. He doesn’t know what half the inventory even is, and the rest he uses in downright offensive ways.”
Grahn huffed. He filled himself a tankard and sipped on it, leaning back against the reinforced wood. To anyway worth their steel, the dwarf would immediately stand out. The way he moved his old machine. Only someone with decades of experience could make it seem so casual.
The inexperienced dwarves either young or coming from outside often looked up to those with the most shiny and impressive suits. The problem with high quality machines was the fact that they did a lot for the wearer. Lilith is the same, Bralin thought. Living steel was some of the highest quality someone could get. He was most interested in the person who made that for her, more so than the suit itself. With her ridiculous level, she’d see it as a toy, but if he could get in tough with the maker. That would change things.
He only knew of one, maybe two people in the Pit who could make something comparable. Four or five perhaps with unlimited resources. But she looked like a child piloting the thing. If she fought anything worthwhile in the pit, things would’ve changed by now, the armor adjusting to her and she to it, but it would never be a replacement for decades of experience in a hard to maneuver suit. Ah I have to be honest. I’d love a suit of living armor.
A red light flicked on above the entrance, another near the restroom, and a third above the bar. Every dwarf in the room stopped their conversations. They looked around and got up, visors coming down to cover their faces.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if that was her,” Bralin joked, giving the barkeep a smirk as he too stood up to leave. He considered getting his actual machine but that would bring a lot of unwanted attention, and other long term issues. It would take another century to lose his reputation once again. He poured himself another whiskey and took the glass with him, Grahn walking next to him with his tankard in one hand and a massive hammer in the other.
He could hear the alarms now that they were outside, everyone at least at level two hundred would join the front line to defend the Pit against whatever creatures were unleashed today. Always a massive event but sometimes a little inconvenient. They active it a little too often as well, Bralin thought, downing the whiskey before he threw the glass away.
“On your tap,” Grahn said, taking a drink from his tankard.
Groups of war machines rushed past, heavy breaths audible from within their helmets. High end machines flew above, next to mages and Dark Ones only wearing normal armor. The first cannon was fired, the sound reverberating through the entirety of the bowl like Pit as the ground shook. If anybody had failed to receive the message, now they would know.
As much as the battles were usually quick and underwhelming, Bralin did enjoy the spectacle. Every time. It was one of the reasons he had come here after all. The life of nobility just didn’t appeal to him. The smell of heated metal permeated the streets now, smoke and fire rising in the distance. Explosions resounded. More cannons started firing. The two changed into a jog, both closing their visors as they activated their magic. A thick stone armor formed around the most important bits of Bralin’s suit, runes etched within. They glowed with power as his speed increased. “See you later,” he said to his friend and rushed forward. Each step propelled him through the smoke. He jumped and landed on a simple square stone building to get a better view.
His eyes opened wide when he saw a dozen flying war machines above the pit, their arms raised with green projectiles shooting out at both the cannons and defenders. He had seen them before, the design unmistakable. Not in person. Few alive still claimed they had. But the history books remembered them, mostly as a way to scare children and dissuade experimentation with both soul magic and necromancy.
“Soul Wardens!” he shouted, both as a warning an a call to rally. They wouldn’t beat these things with their usual arrogance and competition. He would organize the front and push them back. Fuck. And I liked my anonymity so very much.
Bralin ran and jumped again, several machines landing next to him, three at the front with heavy shields and four at the back with both magic and slug cannons.
“Damage their weapons. Anti soul and magic spells only. Defend!” one of them shouted as the first projectiles impacted the shields. Another five Soul Wardens had appeared, joining the rest of them.
Dozens of spells impacted the floating machines, the outer cannons now taking aim despite the damage they would cause in the town. Bralin heard the nearby cannon power up, energy brimming along the tubes before a one meter thick slug of enchanted steel was propelled and shot at one of the machines.
He saw the Soul Warden explode in arcane energy, both its form and the slug rushing off into the city, crashing through the homes and smithies of a few unlucky residents.
His stone magic wouldn’t do much, but if he could get close enough, some of his runes might do some damage. He instead focused on deflecting the acid like death magic shot out by the machines. Another one went down, falling as if invisible strings had been cut. We have to keep them here, Bralin thought when they reached the edge of the pit, hundreds of spells exploding above, three of the fourteen cannons already taken out.
Valves opened all around the pit, acid pouring out into the depths. Barriers formed and were shattered, most of the better runes already destroyed. There are too many.
Something white lit up the darkness far below, silhouettes of dozens of Soul Wardens visible. He paused as an acid bolt impacted his shoulder, unable to get through his reinforced and rune protected armor. Bralin formed a wall of stone to add to the perimeter, the dozen Wardens above reduced to four as another volley came from the outside cannons. Teams of flying war machines went after the damaged enemies.
“Keep them here! We must not let them roam into the city!” a dwarf shouted nearby, expertly dodging a bolt before he aimed his arcane cannon, a beam of red energy flashing out before it struck.
Each team that went to fight and hopefully finish one of them would weaken their position, but there was nothing else they could do. The shields had to hold. Already Bralin could hear the runes power up, hundreds of mages pouring in their mana, waiting for the signal.
He looked down into the depths again, another volley resounding from the cannons. A horn resounded. Immediately a shield of grayish quality came to life, covering the entirety of the pit as the last remaining Wardens above it were targeted with everything they had.
Flames, he thought and jumped in front of a damaged war machine. One of the Wardens had landed. Its sword had separated the legs of a now screaming dwarf, the only defender of a group of terrified mages.
Bralin shot a few heavy chunks of rock onto the machine. He raised the ground and pushed the injured warrior back and out of the way. “Spread out and aim!” he shouted and ducked under the horizontal swing of the enemy machine. His own suit was quite a bit smaller and not near as heavy but it didn’t look like an experienced or conscious dwarf piloted the cursed thing.
He dodged to the left, a blast of death magic missing him just barely as he formed a shield of stone, the enchanted sword cutting through like paper. It still gave him enough time to take a single step back, the tip of the blade leaving a deep scratch on his chest.
Several blasts impacted the Soul Warden, its attention diverted for a split second. Enough for Bralin to form and charge a heavy boulder. He let the spell loose, aimed at the machine’s right hand and sword arm. The blade was pushed aside but it hadn’t been enough to disarm the thing.
He made some distance when a human clad in flames appeared, twirling in the air before a kick impacted the steel hand of the Warden, ruining its already weakened grip. The blade flew away and clattered to the ground a few meters away.
Bralin covered it in stone and jumped aside when a projectile flashed past. “It’s other arm,” he said to the woman.
Blasts of flame impacted the Warden when another two of them landed nearby. Their section of the pit had retreated a few blocks back. “Cowards,” Bralin exclaimed with a broad smile. At least the mages had taken the injured dwarf with them.
The human grinned as well, landing next to him as spheres of fire formed around her.
“Where are your friends?” Bralin asked.
“Any moment now,” the woman said.
The Soul Wardens raised their arms, death magic gathering on their arm mounted cannons.
Bralin stepped in front of the human and formed a wall. He braced for the impact but nothing came. Moving the stone away, he saw the war machines were gone. He looked up to see a winged humanoid clad in white flame floating over the center of the pit.
“There you go,” said the woman next to him.
He looked at the flying being, squinting his eyes before he recognized her. Lilith, eh, he thought. “You seem pretty confident,” he said, noticing Verena now entirely relaxed.
“Just enjoy the show,” she said and walked to the edge of the pit.
Bralin raised an eyebrow and followed. When he looked up again, the white flame covered Lilith was gone. Their barrier usually took a while to activate because they had to switch out the enchantments against whatever magic type the enemy used. This time it took even longer, soul magic not something that came up more than once every other decade.
Bralin expected to see dozens of Soul Wardens cutting into the barrier from below but what he found instead were war machines covered in white fire, all trying to to hit three fast moving beings of ash. Copies, he noted. She’s beyond just Creation, he thought with a grin. Didn’t expect anything less from a three mark human.
“Are they… teleporting?” he remarked, seeing more of the Wardens appear below the barrier. Some mid swing and charging down before they looked around and joined the ashen hunt.