Chapter 98 - War (Part 2)
"Then we retaliate NOW—" Medea began, but Roxana cut her off with a sharp gesture.
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"No. We send reinforcements to the River Gate outposts immediately," Roxana countered. "If they've taken Silver Veil, they'll use it as a staging ground to flank our western defenses by dawn. We need to shore up our lines."
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Richard nodded slowly. "I'll lead a battalion," he offered. "But we need the girl. Her power, properly channeled, might be our best defense against their shadow magic."
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Medea's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You'll get her," she hissed. "But mark my words, Richard – if she dies, if you fail to protect her, you will burn with her. Am I understood?"
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Richard met Medea's gaze unflinchingly. "Crystal clear, my lady."
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As the council dispersed to prepare their forces, Roxana caught Richard's arm. "Be careful," she murmured. "My child is beyond powerful, but unstable. Don't push her too far."
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Richard's lips quirked in a humorless smile. "When have I ever been anything but careful?"
-03:00 AM, River Gate Outpost-
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In the woods near the River Gate outpost, the Alizah forces regrouped. Their mages, drained from the earlier assault on Silver Veil, huddled around small, smokeless fires, trying to replenish their strength. The commander, a scarred veteran named Voss, conferred with his scouts.
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"The Azones are sending reinforcements," one scout reported, his voice tight with tension. "A large force, moving fast. They'll be here within the hour."
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Voss spat on the ground, his face twisting into a feral grin. "Let them come," he growled. "By morning, their corpses will fertilize this forest, and we'll march on Ossa itself."
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Before he could continue, a horn blared in the distance – three long, mournful notes that echoed through the trees. The Alizah forces scrambled to battle positions, readying weapons and preparing spells.
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From the direction of the fortress, a column of Azone cavalry charged forth. At their head rode Richard, his armor gleaming in the moonlight, a sword of crackling energy held high. And at the center of the formation, flanked by guards, rode the girl – the witch whose power had turned the tide once before.
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Her hands were bound in glowing chains, clearly meant to control and channel her magic rather than simply restrain her. Her eyes blazed with an inner fire as she surveyed the Alizah forces arrayed before them.
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"Light it up," Richard ordered, his voice carrying clearly across the battlefield.
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The girl raised her arms, the chains glowing brighter. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a roar that shook the very earth, pillars of fire erupted along the tree line. The night exploded into daylight as the forest burned with unnatural intensity.
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Alizah mages screamed as their shadow forms were caught in the conflagration. The fire seemed to seek them out, burning through their magical defenses as if they were paper. Those who had not yet transformed found themselves trapped between the advancing Azone cavalry and the wall of flame at their backs.
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The battle that followed was short and brutal. Caught off guard by the ferocity of the Azone attack and the power of the girl's magic, the Alizah forces quickly broke. Some tried to retreat into the burning woods, only to find the flames parting for the Azone cavalry and closing behind them, cutting off all escape.
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By the time the sun began to rise, the field was littered with Alizah dead. The few survivors were rounded up, bound in magic-suppressing chains to await interrogation.
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Richard surveyed the carnage, his expression grim but satisfied. He turned to the girl, who swayed in her saddle, clearly exhausted by the effort of controlling such powerful magic.
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"Well done," he said softly. "You've saved many lives today."
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The girl's only response was a tired nod before she slumped forward, unconscious. Richard caught her before she could fall, cradling her carefully as he gave orders for their forces to regroup and secure the area.
-War Room; Dawn-
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As the first rays of sunlight crept through the windows of the war room in Ossa, Medea studied the reports coming in from the River Gate. Her earlier rage had cooled, replaced by a calculating gleam in her eye.
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"The River Gate holds," she announced to the assembled commanders. "For now. Richard's attack was successful – we've bloodied their nose and bought ourselves some time."
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Roxana leaned over the map, her finger tracing the line of the river. "They'll retreat to Silver Veil," she mused. "It's their only viable fallback position. We should strike now, while they're disorganized. Crush them between our forces and the river."
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Several of the commanders nodded in agreement. One, an older man with a heavily scarred face, spoke up. "What about the Shadow Weavers? Even with the girl's fire, they're still a deadly threat."
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Roxana smiled thinly. "I have some ideas about that. We'll need to coordinate our mages, create a web of detection spells that can track their movements even when incorporeal."
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As the council debated strategies and troop deployments, the door opened. Richard entered, looking weary but triumphant. "The girl is resting," he reported. "She'll be ready to fight again by midday, if needed."
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Medea nodded curtly. "Good. We'll need her power for the assault on Silver Veil." She turned back to the map, her voice taking on a tone of grim satisfaction. "Finally... a proper war. One worthy of the Azone name."
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The room filled with the sound of orders being given, messengers dispatched, and preparations being made. The Azones' counterattack would begin at dawn, and with it, the true test of their strength against the shadow magic of the Alizah forces.
-Dawn, Assault on Silver Veil-
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The sky bled crimson as the sun crept over the horizon, casting long shadows across the charred remains of what was once a lush forest. The Azone forces gathered at its edge, a sea of glinting armor and determined faces. At the vanguard stood Richard, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword, eyes scanning the desolate landscape before them. Beside him, the girl swayed slightly, her face pale and drawn. The glowing chains binding her hands pulsed faintly, in sync with her labored breathing.
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Richard leaned close, his voice low and urgent. "Stay close to me. We can't afford any mistakes today. Channel your fire through the forest, not at it. We need to burn their shadows out of hiding without destroying our own cover."
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The girl nodded weakly, her eyes hollow but determined. Sweat beaded on her brow despite the morning chill, a testament to the toll her power was taking on her body.
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Behind them, mounted on a massive black warhorse, Medea surveyed the assembled troops. Her armor, polished to a mirror sheen, reflected the bloody dawn. When she spoke, her voice cut through the tense silence like a whip.
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"Remember your training! Move fast and hit hard. We must crush them before they have a chance to regroup and use their shadow magic. For Azone and for vengeance!"
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A chorus of battle cries answered her, the sound echoing across the dead forest.
-Inside Silver Veil-
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The Commander paced the ruins of what was once the granary tower, his boots crunching on broken stone and splintered wood. Around him, his remaining Shadow Weavers knelt in a circle, their low chants reverberating through the shattered structure. The air shimmered with dark energy, making it difficult to focus on any one spot for too long.
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"They'll come at dawn," Voss snarled, his scarred face twisted with a mixture of anticipation and rage. "Be ready to drown them in darkness. Show them the true power of the shadows!"
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As if in response to his words, the mages' shadows began to stretch and distort. They pooled together in the center of the circle, forming a writhing mass that hissed and bubbled like tar given life. Voss allowed himself a grim smile. Let the Azones come. They would find only death waiting for them.
-Azones' Front Lines-
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A horn blared, its mournful note hanging in the air for a moment before being swallowed by the eerie silence of the dead forest. Then, with a thunderous roar, the Azone cavalry charged. Hundreds of horses, their riders resplendent in gleaming armor, pounded across the ashen earth. At their head rode Richard, the girl clinging to him, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and determination.
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As they entered the outskirts of the burned forest, the girl raised her arms. Fire roared to life around them, but not in the pillars of flame they had seen before. Instead, serpentine coils of fire slithered through the dead trees, igniting them from within. The flames licked upward in unnatural spirals, casting wild, dancing shadows across the battlefield.
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"There!" Richard shouted, pointing with his sword. The writhing fire had illuminated half-formed shadows skittering between the trees. Alizah assassins, caught in the act of materializing, their blades flashing in the firelight—
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But before they could strike, the girl's flames surged forward. The assassins disintegrated with agonized screams, their shadow forms consumed by the hungry fire. All around them, similar scenes played out. Shadow Weavers, attempting to transform, found themselves burned mid-shift, their smoke-like bodies curling into ash.
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For a moment, it seemed as though victory would come swiftly. But deep within the ruins of Silver Veil, Commander Voss grinned, revealing teeth filed to points.
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"Now," he whispered. "Show them true darkness."
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The pooled shadows in the granary tower erupted upward with a sound like a thousand tormented souls screaming in unison. From the ruined structure emerged a colossal monstrosity—an amalgamation of a hundred slaughtered Azone souls, its body a constantly shifting mass of claws, teeth, and agonized faces. It surged toward the advancing Azone forces, swallowing the girl's flames in its wake and leaving only inky darkness behind.
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The girl staggered in Richard's arms, nearly falling from the horse. Blood streamed from her nose, and her skin had taken on an ashen pallor. "I can't—" she gasped, her voice weak and trembling. "It's too strong—"
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Richard's grip on her tightened, his voice cold and unyielding. "You can. You must. If you falter now, we all die here. Every last one of us."
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Something in his tone seemed to reach her. The girl's eyes hardened, and she screamed—a primal sound of pain and defiance. She unleashed a torrent of fire unlike anything they had seen before. The flames, now streaked with her own blood, roared toward the shadow-beast. They collided with the monstrous creation, tearing chunks from its ever-shifting form. Faces within the beast wailed as they dissolved, only to be replaced by new horrors.
-Ruins of Silver Veil-
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While the main force engaged the shadow-beast, Medea led her cavalry in a wide arc, circling to the eastern flank of Silver Veil. Her sword, a family heirloom said to be forged with dragon fire, cleaved through Alizah stragglers with terrifying efficiency. Each stroke left a trail of blue flame in its wake.
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"Push them toward the river!" she bellowed, her voice carrying over the din of battle. "No survivors! We end this today!"
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Her troops responded with renewed vigor, driving the disorganized Alizah forces back toward the water. But their advantage was short-lived. The shadow-beast, momentarily beaten back by the girl's flames, began to regroup. Its amorphous body reformed, larger and more terrible than before. A tendril of pure darkness lashed out, impaling three Azone soldiers and hoisting them into the air. Their bodies withered before everyone's eyes, reduced to desiccated husks as the beast devoured their very souls.
Atop a crumbling wall, Roxana appeared. Her usual icy composure was gone, replaced by an intense focus as she surveyed the battle. Her eyes widened as she spotted something in the chaotic melee.
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"Richard!" she shouted, her voice magically amplified to cut through the noise. "The beast's heart! It's still in the granary! Destroy it, and the monster falls!"
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Richard wheeled his horse around, charging toward the ruined granary with the girl clinging to him. They fought their way inside, cutting down Alizah defenders and dodging grasping shadows that seemed to come alive on the walls around them. In the center of the cavernous space stood Commander Voss, surrounded by his remaining Shadow Weavers. The mages' hands were fused to the floor by tendrils of writhing darkness, their faces contorted in a mixture of agony and ecstasy.
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Voss turned to face them, his eyes now solid black, a manic grin splitting his face. "You're too late," he spat, dark ichor dripping from his mouth. "The ritual is complete. This land is ours, and soon, your entire kingdom will drown in shadow!"
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The girl slumped against Richard, her fire sputtering weakly. He raised his sword, preparing to charge—
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But the girl's hand shot out, gripping his arm with surprising strength. "No," she whispered, her voice ragged but determined. "Let me. It has to be me."
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Before Richard could protest, the girl tore herself from his grasp. With a guttural cry that seemed to shake the very foundations of the ruined building, she ripped off her glowing chains. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the room exploded in blinding, searing light.
When the smoke and dust finally cleared, the granary was simply... gone. In its place was a smoldering crater, the earth fused to glass at its edges. Of Voss and his Shadow Weavers, nothing remained but scattered ashes. Outside, the massive shadow-beast dissolved with a final, agonized howl that faded into the wind.
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In the center of the destruction lay the girl, motionless. Her skin was cracked and glowing like cooling embers, wisps of smoke rising from her body. Richard approached cautiously, his armor scorched and dented. He knelt beside her, checking for signs of life.
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"She's alive," he called out, his voice hoarse from smoke and shouting. "But barely. We need healers here, now!"
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Medea rode up, her once-pristine armor now slick with blood and ichor. She surveyed the scene, her expression grim. "A pyrrhic victory at best," she muttered. "The forest is gone. Half our forces, dead or wounded. And for what? A ruined outpost and a girl who may not survive the day."
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Roxana approached on foot, her usually immaculate appearance disheveled. She knelt beside the girl, reaching out a hand but stopping short of touching her smoldering skin. "What have you done?" she whispered, a mixture of awe and horror in her voice.
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To everyone's surprise, the girl's eyes fluttered open. But something had changed. Her irises, once a warm red, were now flecked with swirling patterns of inky black. She smiled faintly, her cracked lips parting to reveal teeth stained with soot.
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"I... borrowed," she rasped, her voice barely audible. "From the shadows. They were so angry, so hungry. I gave them a taste of their own darkness."
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A chill ran down Richard's spine at her words. He exchanged a worried glance with Roxana, both of them realizing that their victory may have come at a terrible cost.
To be Continued...
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