“How would we know when to push forward, sire?”
“We’ll know. Something will happen,” answered Tyler.
To the exile’s credit, he didn’t ask any additional questions. He stepped back and barked out the orders. The dwarves in front let out a loud, rumbling roar in their language, overjoyed to learn their brethren were still alive. It was followed by one from the human warriors, finally glad to see an objective. But the mage’s mind was quickly running through unpleasant scenarios as he ran back to the front.
Battle plans were never set in stone, Tyler thought even as he continued to rain down deadly magical blades on the undead held back by the barrier.
When he reached a position behind the dwarven ranks, he could see numerous undead being rapidly swallowed up by the ground. It would have been funny if the situation was not so dire.
It’s like a wave at a sports event, though the direct participants disappear. Permanently, I hope.
Then explosions promptly appeared among the undead in the distance, bodies messily bursting into pieces, body parts and armor flying through the air. Tyler noticed the effect only happened in a small area, but had to admit it was devastating. It completely cleared the undead from its area of effect.
“Tighten ranks! Forward! Slow and steady!” came Kobu’s command.
Like a ponderous elephant, the entire formation started moving. As the host slowly marched forward, beset by remnants of the undead left on the wedge’s side of the barrier, the beleaguered rearguard started to move in the direction of the embattled rearguard struggling to keep their defensive circle. The three mages had recovered, though they staggered like drunks. Despite the numerous trenches and the continuing devastation being wreaked by Apulli, the pressure on the ring of warriors they intended to rescue was wearing down whatever desperate reserves of strength were left among its ranks.
That observation greatly worried the mage. The speed of both formations was glacially slow, and at the present pace, it would take a long time to cross the few hundred yards dividing them. Tyler knew the wedge would be further be delayed once the shield protecting it disappeared. A final barrage of blades and Tyler made up his mind. But first, he had to keep Kobu doing his job as the leader of the formation. Both Skarde and the exile were doing well in his judgment, but he preferred Kobu leading the wedge. Habrok alone would have to cover his back. He knew Tyndur had his hands full stiffening his side of the formation. Thankfully, the einherjar didn’t ignite the magical flames of his weapon.
“Kobu!” he called out. “I am going to clear a path to the rearguard! Stay here and make sure the formation keeps moving!”
“Wait, sire!” replied Kobu who looked for Skarde and gave the man orders.
Shit. I should have known the man wouldn’t leave me if I went out there.
“I deeply apologize, sire. But I can’t leave you to go into that swarm alone. My…” Kobu started to explain while bowing deeply.
“I know. Your sense of honor. Let’s get this over with,” Tyler answered resignedly. “I’ll be in front. You and Habrok cover my back.” The trio moved past the dwarven front ranks. A hand touched the mage’s arm. It was Dvalin.
“You’re going out there, Lord High Mage?” the chieftain asked.
“Yes, Chief Dvalin. I am going to try to open a clear path to the rearguard,” replied Tyler. Beside Dvalin was Otr. “Glad to see you both alive.”
“Ha. It’ll be a hot day in Ymir’s Domain when the undead get the better of us!” exclaimed Otr.
Funny, observed the mage, he used the word ‘us’.
“But these strange undead could be the exception,” noted Dvalin. “They fight well for skinny dead warriors. Even the skeletons move fast.”
At Dvalin’s observation, Otr kept quiet.
“Just be ready,” said the mage. Sporadic illumination spells from the three mages lit the landscape, showing Tyler the vast number of enemies still on the field.
Tyler immediately formed two long, thick barriers running toward the rearguard, leaving a space of roughly eight feet between the two parallel walls. His projected path started a few feet away. Though he again sensed pressure on the newly created shields, it was not as heavy as before.
The efforts of the three must be working, he concluded as the mage thought of Birki and his two wards.
But a quick check of the triangular shield protecting the host revealed it was about to give way. Before he could strengthen it, the now-familiar sickening crash of flesh and bone on metal again loudly echoed through the night air.
The destruction of the barrier happens too fast, observed the mage as he quickly rebuilt the shield of the wedge again. He had avoided constantly pumping energy into the shield. Too much, and the entire construct would disastrously explode, a distinct possibility in the chaos engulfing the battlefield. Not that he had the luxury of time to reinforce the shield as needed – that demanded attention and a cautious infusion of energy.
Tyler noticed the wedge had moved closer to the energy walls he had created. But the strain of creating multiple energy barriers was getting to the mage. A headache was not a good start to what he planned. He turned to the exile.
“Order the wedge to stop here and hold. We’re near enough, and the men now have to fight those in the main swarm,” the mage told the exile. After Kobu shouted the order, Skarde repeated it down the line.
Tyler took a deep breath and moved forward. As he did so, the dwarves on each side moved their ranks in conjunction with the mage, forming a new tip of the wedge. The sudden movement of the armored fighters caught the attention of the undead on both sides, resulting in renewed vicious fighting. A gauntlet of revenants faced Tyler with their skeletal mouths open, and the detestable greenish orbs greeted him once more. Beams of energy quickly lanced
