Chapter 76

  ‘Faster!’ Reinos the Vengeful Flame bellowed at Krasharak and his ten soldiers running behind him.

  With his 36 levels aiding him, he was slightly faster than the others, but he was out of breath already as he sprinted across the flat, charred ground between the crater’s edge and the camps. He was regretting not putting more of his EXP gains into his strength during his last few level-ups; the box was heavy, but he couldn’t get himself to leave it to one of the warriors to carry — it was too important for that. And he shouldn’t have yelled out loud while running; it just made his lungs hurt.

  Almost there, general! Krasharak replied with his thought-voice.

  Ah, he should have used his thought-voice — it seemed his captain was wiser than him occasionally. But as the captain had noted, they were close. Reinos could see Camp Styx clearly now, or rather the smoking, burning wreckage it had become after Lord Hyde’s new catapults had done their destructive work. In the distance to the left, Camp Colosseum was also burning, and he knew his mother — or General Riaret as she liked to be addressed — was there, decimating or having already decimated the minotaur forces, quashing all resistance, keeping the path open for the crafters and the soldiers to leave Orroth. All according to plan. And now the plan was calling for him and the two “battalions” of his army — a word he had not heard before, but Lord Hyde had insisted on using — to intercept and stall the enemy reinforcements rushing towards them from two sides.

  The cloud of dust on the right was approaching fast along the back of the encirclement: one of the minotaur generals and his army behind him. While he couldn’t see the other side of Camp Colosseum, his captain’s reports left no room for guessing: the enemy was coming on their side, too. This was going to be dangerous, and he knew he’d be wise to heed Lord Hyde’s order not to get into a close-up fight with them — the human ghosts in the boxes and his mages’ spells and archers’ arrows would have to be enough to slow them down. If that didn’t work, he wasn’t sure what would.

  Here’s good. He sent a thought to Krasharak as he slid to a halt about a hundred paces from the back of Camp Styx — close enough to see werewolves and minotaurs either burning or rushing to put the all-consuming fires out in the camp, and to be noticed by them in turn, but far enough to be ignored for the moment by the preoccupied enemy. The catapults and the flameslime jars seemed to have been a lot more effective than he had initially thought upon seeing the crafters testing them back in Garoshek. Lord, we’re here. I’m putting the box down and turning it on. He reported and put the heavy thing down onto the dry and cracked ground.

  That’s a good spot, I can see you. The reply came. Remember the timer? Set it to show the symbol that looks like a circle with a hook underneath and a larger circle behind it. That’s ninety seconds. Then get back from there and get ready to engage the enemy at range. Tell the captain leading Second Battalion to set the projector down where he is now, set the timer to show two sticks and a circle — a hundred and ten seconds — and get ready for ranged combat.

  Reinos relayed the order to captain Daruun-Otek leading the second contingent of his army, while pressing the “buttons” on the box until the requisite symbols glowed green on the smooth surface of the mysterious ghost-trap.

  Done, Lord! He thought-yelled, and he was already running back to re-join the battallion along with his squad.

  Good stuff! Just a minute and they’ll be there. Some of them are already veering off towards you. Don’t get into a melee, back away if you have to. As long as they’re not aiming for Camp Colosseum, we’re good.

  And the other side, Lord? He asked as he reached his “battalion” and ordered his mages and archers to form a line to attack the approaching enemy forces.

  Riaret is going to meet the enemy general and fight him. She insisted. Otherwise, the play is the same.

  Of course mother would insist on something like this; another general was a tempting source of EXP, and she wouldn’t miss out on it, that was for sure. And mother, Riaret the Severing Strike, was likely able to take on the challenge and win. But on this side of the blazing Camp Colosseum?

  Who’s going to stop the minotaur general on this side? He asked.

  Me. I’ll be there in a few seconds.

  From the wall? How?

  Yeah, from the wall. I’ve got a cat.

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  ***

  Seconds were passing fast, and at the same time, with agonising slowness, each of them bringing the dust cloud kicked up by thousands of enemy soldiers closer, not to mention the general and some high-level captains running ahead of them. About fifty seconds after Reinos had pressed the timer on the box, the enemy general — a huge minotaur wielding a two-handed blade that looked like a sword but could have passed for a long, wide-bladed crafter’s saw — rushed past the dormant distraction without paying any mind to it, heading straight for Camp Colosseum. Reinos nearly lost his balance as he watched the enemy leader running at full speed. Was this part of the plan? Wasn’t the box supposed to release that ghost and distract the general, too? From a distance of over a hundred paces, he couldn’t get a feel for the general’s level, but every fibre of his body was telling him he wouldn’t be strong and fast enough to slow him down for any meaningful period of time, let alone kill him. Where was Lord Hyde?

  Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to worry about how the lord of the Fourth was going to deal with a Third Ring general or what a cat had to do with any of it — whatever a cat was. The army following their leader just a minute behind, was splitting into two contingents: one part — some three, maybe four thousand of them — following their boss, the other, consisting of two to three thousand soldiers, veering off and aiming for his battalion, just as Lord Hyde had said.

  ‘Get ready to unleash everything you’ve got!’ he ordered as his mages and archers lined up. ‘Warriors, keep back for now. If anyone gets close, then it will be your turn.’

  Reinos pulled on the Hell-Mana in his soul, gathering it in his hands, the name of his Infernal Storm spell on the tip of his tongue, ready to be called forth with a word at the right moment, and he could feel as his soldiers did the same. But the moment he was waiting for didn’t come, instead, a different moment arrived. He couldn’t help but smile as the giant ghost finally made her appearance right in the midst of the enemy contingent approaching his forces — the same, human woman, talking and gesticulating exactly the same way he’d seen. How that box hadn’t been trampled to dust under the hooves of the minotaurs he didn’t know; Surface World crafters sure knew their craft.

  He had expected the enemy to slow down; some confusion and some hesitation upon seeing the ghost — a similar reaction to that of his soldiers when the box had revealed its contents to them. But for the charge to come to a screeching halt, minotaurs and werewolves stumbling and falling over each other in their hundreds, trying to turn and face the new threat, launching arrows and spells at the immaterial apparition? That was just too good, even if he could only see the front ranks of the enemy with any clarity.

  The ghost has come out! Daruun-Otek from Second Battalion on Acheron-side reported. Third Ringers are close, but their charge has almost stopped. Their general got through a minute ago, heading to the other camp.

  That’s fine, General Riaret is waiting for him. Keep your distance from the enemy, the catapults … He replied to his captain but stopped as dozens of blazing projectiles rose into the air in the distance from behind the city walls, flying towards their targets on both sides of Camp Colosseum like unstoppable heralds of burning death. The catapults are shooting. Don’t get caught in the fires!

  Of course, general. The captain replied.

  The enemy army, slowly learning that the ghost was neither harmed by their attacks nor harming them in turn, didn’t even notice what was coming for them. The flaming projectiles descended on them like a cataclysm ordered by the Hellguide himself; the jars shattered on the dry ground amongst the minotaurs, copious amounts of flameslime igniting and splashing in all directions, covering the soldiers in all consuming fires by their hundreds. What a sight! Even from seventy or so steps away, the heat of the flames hit him as if he had summoned a firestorm in front of him, the screams and roars of minotaurs rolling on the ground and burning alive filling his ears — a sweet, joyful, searing hot melody that put him in a good mood. And it was time to add his own vengeful flames to this concert.

  All captains of First and Second Battallions! Split up and surround the enemy but keep a distance. Spells and arrows only. If they charge, back away and draw them away from Camp Colosseum! He sent the orders, and he moved forward, drawing more and more Hell-Mana from his soul while unleashing the bolstering aura-skills he had access to as a general.

  The second round of flameslime jars landed as he and his soldiers rushed ahead to get into spellcasting range, the catapult shots reinforcing the blazing furnace the enemy had found themselves in, amplifying the heat and the dying screams of hundreds. The captains of the other contingent reported similar results, already engaging the enemy on their side, just as he would in mere seconds here. Many of the minotaurs — who had been lucky enough to be outside of the fiery field of death Lord Hyde had created for them — had made the decision that to attack him and his forces was a better idea than to try to help those caught up in the catapults’ barrage and were charging ahead.

  ‘Here you go, you Third Ring bastards! Infernal Storm!’ Reinos yelled as the first of the enemy came into the range of his spell.

  Hell-Mana rushed out in a split second, and a burning vortex engulfed the vanguard of the oncoming enemy, joined by rivers of fire, glowing arrows and blue streaks of ice, all slamming into the minotaur charge. Dozens fell, burned or frozen, but the Third Ring’s supply of warriors was vast; more of them were coming, jumping over their fallen comrades, weapons gleaming with Hell-Mana, their crazed battle-cries matching those of his own soldiers.

  Back away, back away! Draw them as far from the camps as possible! Reinos reiterated the order, unleashing another whirlwind made of Hellfire. He knew full well how tempting it was — especially for his warriors — to throw themselves into the fight, but that wasn’t the goal here; he had to keep as many of the cursed minotaurs from Camp Colosseum as he could, even if it cost him his life. But the enemy general that had got past the distraction along with some of his captains? He had no choice but to trust that Lord Hyde could handle it. And why couldn’t he? He was high-level, a hero of the Surface World, and he had a ... cat. Whatever that was.