From her vantage point, the top of a building of the village, Isha dismissed the spell. Her hand that had glowed with the Mana in preparation for losing another [Lightning Shot] dimmed, then went out.
The Titan Spawns, hulking monstrosities with their clicking mandibles, scattered like startled chickens. They fled in every direction, their backs turned on the village they had so threatened. Had these abominations pressed their assault, the village would have undoubtedly fallen. However, such coordinated aggression was alien to their nature. Titan Spawns were creatures of brute force, not cunning strategy—their existence a solitary pursuit of mindless destruction. They never fought difficult battles, and no nests of these creatures worked together unless something or someone was driving them to it.
They fought amongst themselves, trying to destroy enemy nests, ripping each other to shreds, as much as they had fought with the humans before. She watched them until they disappeared into the shadows of the forest—watched the forest until she heard no sound of their march.
They had won. They had saved the village. Roars of cheers from the warriors rolled over her. Isha felt none of the jubilation the warriors showed. They had won, yes, but now that it was over, she felt the effect of over using her Mana like an avalanche. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground on hands and knees, gasping for air. A searing pain—a thousand needles piercing her flesh, acid running through her veins—radiated from her Magicore.
Isha groaned. Naiker's backside, but how it hurt. That was what happened when you used Mana for too long, longer than your body or Magicore could handle.
Liam, the village [Mage] collapsed next to her, breathing heavily, eyes wide with pain. He looked worse than she felt, and no wonder, after how long he had used Mana. It was certainly longer than her.
"You alright?" Isha asked, trying to steady her breathing and hammering heart. Of course, she knew he was not alright. No one could be after what they had gone through. But she had to do something, speak to distract herself from the pain that was washing over her like a burning flame.
"No," Liam said, panting like a dog. "But the pain will pass, and it was worth it. We did it. Naika's blood, but we did it."
He punched the air with one hand laughing—another hand passed over his sweat laden face.
Isha couldn't suppress the chuckle that bubbled up from her. It was a bitter sort of amusement—Isha knew most men did not like admitting their vulnerabilities, their weakness, pain. Even her brother, Isham—may Tsuganda protect his soul in the afterlife—had always covered pain in a facade of strength. As if he was not face to face with death. As if him acting strong would make her feel better. It never had.
But it seemed Liam had no problem admitting his vulnerabilities, it was like a breath of fresh air. And that honesty made her appreciate him, even though she barely knew him.
She, Liam and the small band of archers who had taken a position on the rooftop lowered themselves to the ground using a rope ladder.
Shouts and cheers erupted as the archers raced through the village, carrying the news of victory. One by one people began to appear in the streets of the village.
Liam and Isha made their way towards the warriors, they were tending to their wounds
She barely gave the battlefield a cursory glance, yet she noticed something odd. Bodies of roaches lay everywhere. There were bodies consumed by fire, others impaled by arrows, and still others bearing perfect, circular holes with no sign of the weapon that had caused it.
And then there were bodies with cracks on the carapace like spreading tree roots—those were the casualties of her [Lightning Shot]. Had she really killed so many of those creatures?
Isha shuddered. "Where are the bodies of the warriors?"
Before Isha could investigate the matter, Nairobi waddled in her direction. She had a few cracks in her carapace but no wounds. And it seemed she was basically dragging Michael who seemed half unconscious.
The man was riddled with wounds, and the axe he held in his hand was sleek with blood and viscera.
Isha narrowed her eyes when she saw him. It wasn't the severity of his injuries that held her attention, but because of what she had seen during the battle, something impossible. A detail, something people from this part of the empire would not notice, but she understood the significance.
Michael had a Nexus Shard. She had seen the glow in his axe, a telltale sign of enhancement type Nexus Shard. Though how he had got hold of a Nexus Shard was beyond her. No one of his level should have the ability to kill someone who had manifested a Nexus Shard of their own. No one!
Who was this man and who had he killed? And how had he done it?
"Can any of you help him?" Nairobi said.
"Did you see that, Nairobi," Michael mumbled. "Did you see me? I was afraid… terrified, but I fought back. I held my ground. I was like the hero Madwin. I fought… fought… I… I…"
Nairobi patted him on the back. "Yes, yes, you fought well. I saw."
Michael's eyes closed shut.
Liam sighed. "More work for me, but I think I can manage. Put him down there. I'll see what I can do for him."
Without question, Nairobi did as she was told, gently resting Michael on the ground. His body slumped, and a low groan escaped his lips. He muttered something, but the words he spoke were gibberish.
Isha immediately felt Liam synergizing a spell, probably something to heal the man.
"Your Magicore has reached its limit. Do not strain yourself, boy, " Castra's voice called from behind them. "Unless you want to damage your Magicore, that is. Let me handle this one."
"Who… Who are you?" Liam said.
Castra smiled. "A friend."
Isha frowned as she regarded her master. The woman did like to act mysterious. That smile looked more predatory than friendly besides.