Support my main contracted novel and winner of Writing Prompts #26 - The Legendary Mage!
Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn!
https://www.webnovel.com/book/12013957905760805/Desolate-Mage%3A-A-Legend-Reborn!
* * * * *
(This is too easy…) Sam stifled a yawn as she kicked a quasit in the chest.
Not that it was easy. Just that it was repetitive and... Grindy.
Her seemingly casual kick crushed the demons organs; sending it flying into the nigh-endless rows of demons behind.
Using a chop of the hand, she decapitated one quasit and struck the next quasits shoulder, leaving it deformed and killing it.
She raised her eyebrows as four quasits leaped at her - she unleashed a flurry of palm and knife-hand strikes, popping the minor demons heads like pinatas.
Then as the little creatures closed down the space next to her and snapped, clawed or tried to grab her, she stretched her arms at high speed and held her two palms out - impaling 2 quasits by-the-way.
Then she spun at high speed. The arc of her spin formed a beautiful circle of light where the dusky sunlight hit her skin; from the difference in colour of her hands and her long brown sleeves covering all the way up to her wrists.
Her arms, palms and fingers were like the blades of a sawmill, mashing up limbs, bodies and heads or whatever they grazed. The demons crowding around were blown away, with a knock-on effect of pushing back the next wave behind them and creating a momentary lull in the relentless battle.
Though it looked perfunctory; the quasits bones were as solid as an orcs – it was just that Sam's seemingly supple skin, flesh and bones were as dense and hard as metal; able to leave dents in hardened and tempered cast grey iron - unharmed.
Nonetheless, Sam could not attack lightly - each blow needed about 1/3 of her full power to one-shot the demons. Because of that, she could feel that the battle was growing slightly harder - as her killing speed could not keep up with the rate at which they poured through the portal.
She (and Snowie) were also relieved that they ignored the kitten. On the contrary, they were drawn to her like a moth to flame. Snowie was cowering inside Sam's backpack - getting queasy from the changes in vector and force as Sam dodged and leaped across the battlefield.
In every second, she estimated she killed 2-3 of the creatures; while at least 5-6 would pop out of the portal and replace their fallen kin - and there seemed to be no end in sight.
(Transform...? No... Disruption...? No...) She shook her head, realising that both of her abilities were not suited for one-against-many clashes; all it would do would be to overkill and mutilate an already dead quasit.
She felt aggrieved at her lack of mana or divinity; wishing she could learn grandpa's waves techniques, or uncle Dhar-dhar's divine arts. Or even Stefan's wide area spells. Anything that could extricate her from the endless mass of brown-red bodies. She felt disgusted as they reminded her of both caked-blood and human excrement... And they smelled like the latter, too...
(Maybe... I need to close the portal?) Her slow mind reached this conclusion after nearly 3 minutes of battle - by now she was spending half the time running away to avoid being buried beneath the mindless charge of the quasits. As a result, her kill rate had decreased; and their numbers kept increasing faster and faster.
With her next step clearly defined; she estimated the distance between herself and the portal - (About 120m... I just need 3 seconds to reach it if I use Instant-Burst...).
She flung away a quasit that nearly bit her face; and stomped on one that tried to crawl under her line of sight. Then she lowered her stance and *shrunk*.
For a tick, the quasits hesitated, feeling an instinctive oppression - as if in the presence of a higher being. But a moment after; their instinctive hunger for high-quality flesh overwhelmed their survival instincts and they trampled one another to get to their "meal".
Sam stored up her energy, then charged forward.
Whichever quasits were in her path were knocked up into the sky like a bowling pin hit by a wrecking ball. Such was the force of her charge that those unfortunate creatures caught underfoot were literally liquefied wherever her foot landed; while any quasit even slightly brushed by her had every bone in their body turned to powder.
Sam reached the portal in less than 3 seconds in a "charging up" position.
And in the next instant, she struck; her two palms pressed together and open[1] and slamming into the portal with a loud gonging sound. The unexpectedly heavy impact and resistance from the portal caused her hands, arms and shoulders to suffer intense pain; even slightly rupturing some of the blood vessels on the back of her hands.
Sam gasped in pain as she stumbled back a half step or so. But she could see the paradoxically ethereal-yet-solid portal shimmer and flicker; as if though it would disappear with only 1 more hit.
So she steeled herself to launch another blow before the annoying yet deadly horde of claws and teeth flooded over her. Just then, a smooth hand free from callouses with jade-like skin extended out of the portal to point at her.
In the split second before she began her next strike, the hand gestured. A complex pentagram was formed instantaneously, spinning and floating in mid-air. From the pentagram, dark black flames began to gather, spiraling around and--
"!!!"
Sam immediately threw herself down to the ground; her chest hitting it with a heavy thump.
Just in time; as she felt a scorching heat pass over her head and shoulders; before a deafening explosion sounded with the crumbling of rocks.
She instinctively rolled to the right and bounded up, balancing herself with one knee and one hand against the ground. Then she gasped.
Her eyes widened as she saw the aftermath of that simple point-of-a-finger; mouth agape with shock and a creepingly bad feeling crawling across her skin.
* * * * *
As the dust settled.
Sam saw the ground where the dark flames fireball passed through - the hardened, mirror-like earth was gouged out; and the carnage continued nearly 300m until it reached the sheer cliff wall where the fireball exploded.
The cliff wall fared no better; a section of it 2 houses high and wide had a hole in it deep enough for a few mammoths to be stored within.
(It's quiet...?) The quasits which chased her were mostly wiped out; the remaining cowering in terror. Most were caught in the path of the dark flames fireball and vapourised. On the edges of the spells path, what remained were sooty black chunks of carbon. Further from the area of effect, quasits within 2 metres of the path of the flames were instantly burnt to death; though these were at least only half-burned. But still dead.
In less than a blink of the eye, more than half of the thousand plus quasits were killed - the rest left gibbering in fear.
Sam had the premonition that if she charged forward now, she would be blown away and erased.
So she could only watch in trepidation as the owner of the hand stepped out of the portal.
* * * * *
3 minutes ago.
"Let's hurry, Sebastian!" A regal, noble yet young woman urged her butler and advisor; as they dashed over through the woods, leaving their 20-man guard escort behind.
Romilda was rushing along with no regard for the tree leaves and branches whipping against her face - her mana reinforcement was enough to snap every branch or twig and keep her from even getting scratched. She was closely tailed by a stern and powerful grey-haired gentleman and a rough-looking red-haired woman.
The 19-year old girl had a pristinely white-hilted sword in a pearl-white scabbard, and was dressed in unreasonably pure-white clothes with golden seams; which would leave one curious as to how it could be kept so clean.
Whether it were her shoes, hairband, sword or clothes; all of her equipment were at least legendary-level items. She was, after all, the favored daughter of Caesar.
The powerful looking man - Sebastian - sported a greying moustache and was dressed in a black pants, black vest and white long-sleeved shirt. He signalled with his eyes to Vigdis - her Highness' guard captain - to stay on alert as they headed towards the source of disturbance her Highness had sensed with her innate talent of Precognition.
Her innate talent had proved itself immensely valuable to the girl; aiding her in her meteoric rise to become the successor of the Roman White Knights Order - much to the ire and jealousy of many. And according to the Princess on the day before, she felt an inexplicable urge, sense, NEED to head towards this location.
As they drew nearer, she exclaimed in worry that the urge was growing ever stronger; stronger than even when Caesar's cousin was about to be assassinated.
Sebastian wore a troubled look.
With their trio's power, equipment and trump cards, there should be no concern of danger. But Sebastian knew better than to be lulled into a sense of security; countless strange occurrences had been happening. He had thought it had culminated at its apex with the fall of Sakra and the gandharva kingdom, yet they had continued to worsen even after then.
Right now, he was wary of the potential coming encounter... He caught the scent of demons blood in the air.
"Princess."
"Un...?" Romilda tilted her neck slightly to look backwards at her butler.
"Do not be careless." He paused, waiting for his ward's response.
Her eyes turned more serious; giving him a questioning look. Facing straight ahead, Sebastian paused for a moment, before nodding. "Your Highness; preparations win a thousand battles; while the defeated lament their disadvantages."
She nodded, having heard this many times before.
"...Let us be the victors, who win before setting out for war. Use your best runes and abilities from the beginning."
She looked back, waiting for him to continue. Seeing that he elaborated no further, she nodded and began to circulate mana to trigger her 6 rune-set: Blessed Assurance.
Comprised of 2 defensive runes, 1 strengthening rune, 1 agility rune and 2 special abilities; the individual component effects together with the set bonus boosted her level 7 stats to nearly level 12. Coupled with her legendary-tier equipment and her mythical blade Mistilteinn won from the Nordic wars, Romilda was ready for even the fiercest war.
None of them foresaw the titanic scale of the battle that lay before them.
* * * * *
"What's that sound...?"
Caitlyn, Principal Snow, Mikael, Father Tristan, Swordmaster Bannon.
Apart from Mayor Gabriel, the strongest team from the town of Pari was traveling steadily southward. As all of them were above level 20, the 500km journey to Montpellier should have been completed by noon - if not earlier.
However, due to the fears of injured or hurt students, they had brought along Father Tristan's apprentice priests, Stella and Alaric - who though they were carried by their high-leveled elders, could not bear the high-speed journey.
Thus they had stopped to setup temporary camp around 3 hours before sunset - nearby the Mirror Gulf. That was when they heard sounds of fighting; and felt an uneasiness that they had not sensed for more than a decade - the scent of demons.
They shared a glance; then quickly decided for the 3 combatants - Caitlyn, the Principal and the Swordmaster - to hurry over and investigate.