((Book 1 if this is your first time here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZZBHBMF)))
William ducks behind the wall and hisses and winces as he clutches the sides of his head. After a second of this, he manages to pull open the flap of his satchel and digs his hand through it. He tosses me a jar full of the sloshing pink liquid, before pulling one out for himself. I pinch my nose and chug the potion, and pass the empty jar over to him.
"Good job," I tell him as he takes the jar. "I suppose it's my turn now, isn't it?" I sigh and wait for a moment for the headache to vanish.
Once it does, I step out. Thanks to William's spells; despite the passing of the thirty or so seconds behind cover; very little ground was gained. It seems as if the efforts to pull those dogmen that were buried in the rubble of the collapsing earthen spike had stopped, opting instead to march over the rubble, as those that were still struggling worked to pull themselves free.
The heavy infantry advanced unit had managed to climb a dozen or so yards up the path. I suppose those should be my first targets. If they manage to get a foothold on our side of the hill, then it would be over. I doubt I could last in close quarters against 20 or so dogmen in heavy armor, so I had to take care of them now. But how would I do it? Rock Throw would do any good; the stones would just bounce off their shields unless I found something much, much larger than the stones that were available here. Gust was for protection. Djinn's Arrow and Djinn's Volley, would each face the same challenge as Rock Throw. Bolt? Maybe.
I point my cane and utter the first few words of bolt and change my mind. I would be wasting a valuable opportunity if I got it over with as quickly as possible...how many more spells could I create in this situation? How many more opportunities would I come across like this to expand my arsenal? Not just expand my arsenal, but to find better uses for my current arsenal? But first, I had to do something about the shields first, and I had an idea.
"Bombard my enemies, O' thou servants of Gob, the magnomious."
I search the ground for two different size stones with the mana that cycles up my leg and through my body. There. That one, about the size of my head, would be good for the first one. This one was at the end of the crest, and at the beginning of the slope. I find the second stone; one that would fit in my palm easily. I pull them both from the ground and whip the first around my head in an arc to give it some speed before hurling it forward into the center-most dogman's shield. The force pushes the dogman backward and creates a small gap in their formation. I whip the smaller stone around my head this time, like a sling, and sail it forward.
The fist-sized stone squeezes through the gap as the slowed dogmen work to fill it. I'm too far to hear if it connects, but I know it does because of the subsequent response. The centermost dogman staggers falls forward onto his own shield and then collapses to the ground. He tries to push himself up, but he falls forward again. Concussed.
"I allow the Breath of the Salamanders to flow through me."
Hot mana pours in through my mouth and circles around my heart. It pulls toward my throat; but since I haven't yet made a contract with a fire elemental, I push it toward my staff...no, not yet. I push it back to the cycle around my heart and spin it. The mana grows hotter and hotter and hotter. The more mana I take in, and the more I spin it around my heart, the hotter the mana got until it feels like my very skin would bubble and burst.
The slowed dogmen formation step forward, inch by inch to try and cover their injured comrade. Not if I had anything to say about it. I push all of the heated mana through my body, up my arm, and through my staff. A white ball of flame flickers to life and shoots out in my direction. The grass it passes over blackens and ignites as it travels down and slams into the concussed dogman. The white ball of flame smashes against the creature's armored head and breaks apart like a water balloon. The white-hot flames wash over the creature and consume it. It yelps and howls in pain as its wiry fur ignites, and rolls around on the ground to try to put out the flames.
"By the order of Gob, king of the spirits of the earth, I order you, oh gnomes, seize my enemies."
A large hand juts from the ground a second later, and wraps around the body of the burning dogman. The earthy hand extends out of the earth into an arm and thrusts the still squirming; still burning, dogman into the group of heavily armored dogmen. The dogman tries to pull itself free from the grasp of the soil-formed fingers as the white-hot flames eat away at its body. The armored formation falls apart as they move out of the way. The formation was now completely broken. Before they have a chance to reform it, I need to press my advantage.
"Dance for me, 'o daughters of the wind."
Mana flows in through my nose and rushes through me like a howling gale. It flows down my arm and into the cane and wants to escape through the sides. Instead, I push it out at the end of the cane. The wind mana forms a small dervish, spinning in place in front of me.
Was this a new spell? Information flows into my mind. A new incantation. I'll use it later. For now, I cut the flow of mana that holds the dervish still, and release it. It howls as it picks up the latent ash of the scorched grass tops. It slams into the soil hand, holding the now still, smoldering corpse, of the dogman still held within. The whirling dervish breaks the soil hand apart and whips the now red flames up into it. The wind breathes the smoldering embers to life, and the dervish explodes in a fiery inferno as the added heat breaks apart the integrity of the wind flow. Those closest to the corpse are consumed in the flames as tendrils of wind and flame wrap around them, while those in the peripheries, or behind others, merely stagger back. One loses its footing and falls backward onto one of the stakes jutting out of the ground. It pushes through the back of its neck, and the creature dies struggling against it, and the weight of William's spell holding it back.
Just as I begin another incantation, three short barks, followed by two long howls break from the main force. That was a signal for something, I turn my attention back to the main force; all waiting their turn to climb, when about a dozen and a half dogmen raise out of their ranks. Literally. They raise off of the ground, above the heads of all of the dogmen, and moved gracefully as if they were stepping on solid ground. These ones carry either one or a pair of scimitars that dangle on their waist as they ran in the air.
Their movements remind me of the first dogman I encountered in the level 10 door; how quick, and how gracefully they move. I suppose I better stop experimenting with the heavy infantry unit. I'll finish them off.
"A volley, o' djinn."
I concentrate. Hot fire mana pours into my mouth, and powerful wind mana through my nose. Five arrows form in front of me as both of these manas mixes and mingle in my body. I draw in more mana and let it out. Ten arrows. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty. Each subsequent arrow makes the others smaller. At fifty-five they're the size of darts. That should be enough.
I release the arrows, and they arc across the air and rain down on the group of disoriented heavy infantrymen. They strike the broken formation of dogmen. A few manage to raise their shields in time; saving themselves from the onslaught. After the volley ends only four of the initial 20 dogmen in the unit remain upright; surrounded by the burning, whimpering remains of their comrades.