Glory to the Brave (Ascend Online Book 4) Read online

  I primed the cat running beside me as I fixed a pair of spells in my mind, finally beginning to see heads turn in our direction, allowing me to catch brief glimpses of confusion and surprise flashing across the enemy’s faces before they blurred away into a wild swirl of colors.

  Teleporting through the loosely organized ranks, Amaranth and I evaded the rearmost ranks of adventurers as they turned to meet Sierra and the others, reappearing a body’s length away from the bulk of the enemy mages, their backs still turned towards us. Bracing Splinter on my hip as I continued my charge forward, I almost felt a surge of pity for what was about to happen.

  The key word being almost.

  With a loud roar from Amaranth heralding our arrival, I thrust Splinter’s tip deep into the back of an elven spellcaster, feeling the æthertouched blade punch through armor, flesh, and bone as if it were paper. Twisting the blade viciously as I slammed into the mage from behind, I felt a brief wave of cool energy shoot up my arm before I pulled the sword free and slashed out towards another spellcaster, severing a hand that was in the middle of conjuring an orb of fire. A chorus of shouts rose into the air as the spellcasters began to react to Amaranth’s and my presence, panic shooting through those closest to me as they abandoned their spells and turned towards us.

  Too late for that, I thought as I rushed even deeper into the cluster of mages, reaching out to the ravenous hunger that now lived deep within me, and for the briefest of moments, I set it free.

  In an instant, I felt my world fracture into two competing sensations as my stomach contorted itself in sudden agony, the hunger within me reaching out past the limits of my body and drawing what it so very much craved. Then almost at the exact same moment, a near overwhelming flow of energy rushed into me, causing the very hunger paining me to recede and becoming a dull throb in the back of my mind.

  “Shit! It’s him!” I heard a voice cry out in a panic as the twin sensations faded from me, several more shouts echoing out in sympathy as they found their ability to cast spells temporarily interrupted.

  Not that they’re going to have the time to cast anything, I said mentally, allowing myself a savage grin at the fear that the enemy mages had shown, once again feeling my reflexes and perception sharpen as a wave of magic came over me, however, this time also flowing through the link I shared with Amaranth.

  Positioned perfectly amongst nearly a dozen surprised spellcasters who were all unable to cast spells, the next few seconds passed in a blur of carnage as Amaranth and I inflicted grievous wounds on everyone that we could reach. So used to fighting from afar or with support from their more martially oriented companions, the spellcasters all fell into disarray as they all scrambled over one another in an attempt to get away from us—which served to place them right in the path of Sierra’s trailing group, the troupe of allied adventurers scything deep into the flailing spellcasters as they too joined the battle.

  Falling into line with the red-haired scout as she leaped onto a fleeing spellcaster, the battle rose to a feverous pitch as we relentlessly carved a path through the stunned spellcasters, our progress slowing when other adventurers finally rallied to counter our assault. But despite their best efforts to save their companions, our initial attack had served its purpose, the enemy spellcasters having been thoroughly culled until barely a handful remained standing.

  “Keep pushing! Don’t stop for anything!” I heard my voice shout sometime later as I pulled Splinter free from a dying warlock’s stomach, pausing to kick the adventurer to the ground before heeding my own words and lunging ahead. Carving a steady path forward, we gradually pushed our way to the core of the enemy ranks, the world dissolving into sheer butchery as weapons met flesh and magic sailed through the air, each of our sides venting our anger on our opponents in any way that we could.

  “There’s Halcyon and the others!” Sierra shouted through the chaos after what seemed like hours of fighting, using one of her swords to indicate a hail of magical energy high in the air moments before it began to land amid the enemy adventurers, deafening thunderclaps announcing their arrival. No sooner did the last of the magic stop falling did a loud horn cut through the sudden silence, prompting a loud roar of anger to rise in answer.

  Followed by the sound of charging feet.

  “And there’s Drace!” I called back to Sierra, seeing the adventurer army recoil as if physically struck, many of them turning back to flee, only to find themselves trapped between our two forces.

  Just in time for a second wave of magic to explode amongst their ranks.

  Rocked by three punishing blows in rapid succession, the latest magical assault proved to be the final straw, the adventurers’ lines and discipline disintegrating in an instant as they began to devolve into a full out rout. Like a wounded beast having suffered a mortal injury, the army began to hemorrhage its members, at first in singles and pairs, then in larger groups as more and more adventurers sought to flee any way they could.

  Then just like that, the latest battle on the blood-soaked plains was over in all but name, save for the grisly task of chasing down what stragglers we could catch and harassing those we could not just enough to ensure that they would keep running—a task that I was more than happy to leave for the other adventurers, exhausted by the near-constant fighting the day had brought.

  Amaranth’s voice echoed through my head as we stood by ourselves sometime later, looking over a sea of broken bodies and enjoying a moment of respite while we watched teams scour the field for wounded, regardless of what side they may have belonged to during the battle.

  “We’ll need to see,” I replied to the cat, seeing one of the teams searching the battlefield pick up a body that immediately began kicking and screaming before abruptly falling silent as one of the members delivered a vicious strike to the jaw. “It’s still too early to tell how—”

  “Hey!” A sudden shout interrupted my words, prompting me to turn in the direction of the noise and finding Constantine a short distance away from me, standing among a patch of badly burnt bodies that marked the spot where the mages magic had landed the heaviest. “Come over here a minute?”

  “Sure, what’s up?” I called back to my friend as both Amaranth and I walked over, taking care where we put our feet. “Find something?”

  “See for yourself,” Constantine said in an acidic tone as we pulled up beside him, the rogue delivering a vicious kick towards a burnt body on the ground before him.

  “Ugh, ooow! Just fucking kill me already…please…it hurts,” the singed figure whined, the voice sounding incredibly familiar to my ear.

  Amaranth hissed savagely through our mental link as he let out an angry growl, going as far as to swipe the air just shy of the man’s body with a massive paw.

  “Oh, shit,” the man gasped, the body spasming in fear as a single eye opened, instantly shooting upwards to meet mine. “Fuck, figures it would be you that finds me…fucking you…”

  “Well, hello, Ignis,” I greeted the charred half-elf lying on the ground, noting just how badly the battle had gone for him. “You’re looking rather…crispy today. Not enough sunscreen maybe?”

  “Very funny,” he replied with a wet sounding cough and a whimper of pain. “I don’t suppose you guys would be so good as to kill me, would you? You know, for old times’ sake? I’d do it myself, but…”

  “You can’t,” Constantine finished, his voice taking on a note of glee as he spoke.

  “Clearly,” Ignis replied, the stump that was his one remaining arm waving uselessly in the air with the other having been burnt completely to ash.

  “Looks like you’re in a hard spot, Ignis,” I said, matching Constantine’s tone while being silently grateful for the opportunity that had just fallen into our lap. “What’s your death worth to you?”

  “Huh? W-what do you mean?” the charred adventurer asked, his raspy voice breaking.

  “If you want a quick dea
th, we’re going to need something in return,” Constantine said. “Like the location of one of Carver’s bases maybe?”

  “I think that’s fair,” I agreed, feeling a smile spread across my face. “Unless you want to take your chances with the crows, of course.”

  “Is that how it’s going to be?” Ignis grunted painfully before letting out another string of coughing. “Fuck you both, then. I thought you of all people had battlefield honor.”

  “You wouldn’t know honor if it shit down your throat, Ignis,” Constantine spat, pausing to kick the man a second time, but thinking better of it. “But I think Lyrian is right. Leaving you for the crows is about what you deserve.”

  “S-someone will find me, heal me,” Ignis stammered, his voice taking on a panicked, pleading tone. “D-do you want to risk that?”

  “No one is going to be coming for you, Ignis,” I stated, crouching down in front of the man. “We’re making sure of that right now. Just like we’re making sure that this war you and Carver started comes to an end sooner rather than later.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, his single eye moving to follow me. “You have to know you can’t beat us. You got lucky today, it-it won’t—aaaah!”

  “Be quiet, Ignis,” I told the man in a firm voice, having reached out to grab the man by the charred collar of his armor and yanked him up to a sitting position. “There is something I want you to see before we go. Something that I want you to pass on to Carver.”

  “W-what?” Ignis demanded through clenched teeth, pain oozing through his teeth no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

  “That,” I said to the man, reaching out to turn his head towards where I knew the bulk of Virtus was waiting, all of them standing over a row of bound and hooded adventurers kneeling on the ground.

  “What do you want me to see?” Ignis replied in an angry tone, his eye shooting back towards me. “You killing them all before me and leaving me to rot?”

  “That’s pretty tempting,” I answered as I released my hold on Ignis’s armor and let him fall heavily back to the ground with a yelp. “But no, I’m not going to kill them.”

  “Then what?” Ignis wheezed as I stood back up and rubbed my hands on my armor.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked the man rhetorically. “I’m taking them off the board so your side can’t use them anymore.”

  I waved for Constantine and Amaranth to follow me as I slowly turned my body away from Ignis.

  “I’m taking them as prisoners of war.”

  Chapter 2

  Aldford

  A chorus of loud cheering intermixed with a handful of jeers and venomous words marked our return to Aldford that evening as we paraded our newly captured prisoners through the town’s northern entrance. Their very presence announced the success of the day’s efforts and what it meant for the war effort. Glancing around as we entered the town, I saw that all the townsfolk had stopped working to stare at our arrival—and in almost every case, add their voice to the noise echoing through the air.

  Amaranth’s mental voice echoed through my mind as he walked beside me at the head of the procession.

  I replied, feeling a grin cross my face, both at the cat’s words and my own relief on how the day had turned out, the knot I’d been carrying inside my chest for the last day finally relaxing.

  Amaranth agreed, his azure eyes glancing up to meet mine with a curious expression.

  I answered mentally, taking a second to look over my shoulder and seeing the hooded prisoners of war behind me, all of them being pulled along blindly in a line by the ropes we’d tied to their wrists. A part of me had been concerned that something would go wrong on our route back to Aldford—be it a counterattack by Carver’s forces or something else that would throw a wrench in our plans—but as it turned out, the worst that we had to deal with was the token resistance that any captive exhibited, and one easily fixed by a sharp kick to the rear. Hopefully, they’re just as cooperative in the days to come too.

  Letting out a mental grunt at that unlikely turn of events, I returned my attention forward as the noise died off, sparing a glance at the townsfolk, noticing that everyone was already resuming their normal duties, the novelty of the prisoners wearing off in short order. Having grown up in the midst of a multi-decade war, the Eberian townsfolk knew better than to fixate on a single day’s success or failure, knowing that the key to victory was maintaining their focus for the entire duration of the conflict.

  Which is exactly what we need if we’re going to have a chance at beating Carver, I thought as we made our way deeper into the town, the majority of the adventurers with us splitting away from the group until only the core group of Virtus remained.

  Passing through the bustling core of Aldford, I glanced up at the now-massive ætherwarped oak tree that dominated both the town square as well as the sky above. Having grown to epic proportions over the last week, the magical tree’s branches had spread wide enough to encompass the entirety of the town from above, basking it in a comforting blue glow. Along with its growth was now the aura of magic that hung over the entirety of the town, suffusing everyone and everything with a gentle blanket of mana.

  For the non-spellcasters, this simply put an energetic spring in their step that they couldn’t quite place, but nevertheless thoroughly enjoyed the presence of. For the spellcasters within the town on the other hand, myself included, the subtle magic filling the town’s air was a glorious thing, allowing them to replenish their mana supplies in a fraction of the time that it would otherwise take in the wild. Granting a flat regeneration bonus similar to that of what we’d experienced at the open ley line within the Twilight Grove, it was a place that I could somewhat naturally regenerate my mana pool, despite my ætherwarping. Shifting my attention from the tree above as a notification appeared in my combat log, I couldn’t help but smile as I saw that it belonged to the effect in question.

  [Aldford’s Aura of Magic] replenishes you for 50 mana points!

  It really does make life easier for me here, I thought as I felt the cool breeze of mana surge through me in time with the notification appearing. I now don’t have to go chasing around Halcyon or Caius to restore my mana if I happen to use magic while in town, nor do I have worry too much about overdoing it if I’m training.

  Moving with purpose from there, I let my thoughts wander for a short while as our route took us to the other end of town and towards a special building that we’d prepared in anticipation of capturing prisoners today.

  A building that the justicar and a group of town guards were conveniently waiting in front of.

  “It seems that congratulations are in order,” Dyre greeted us in his typical emotionless tone as he turned his faceless gaze towards us, the only thing visible from under the helmet being a clean-shaven mouth and jaw. “Your mission appears to have been a success.”

  “It was,” I replied, offering the justicar a nod, long since having gotten used to his robotic and monotone voice. “In fact, it turned out even better than we had hoped.”

  “Excellent,” Dyre stated, his head turning to look towards the captured adventurers behind me. “Are you prepared to relinquish your captives to my custody, where they will be dealt with in accordance with Aldford’s laws?”

  “I am,” I answered, hearing a chorus of nervous chatter rise up from those we’d captured.

  “Then, on behalf of Aldford, I accept these captives from you and declare them to be prisoners of war,” Dyre announced in an official voice that now carried a previously hidden weight to it. “Now, please remove their hoods so that I may address them appropriately.”

  With his proclamation hanging in the air, it took us less than a minute to line up the offi
cially declared prisoners of war in front of the justicar and remove the burlap sacks that we’d covered their heads with. Standing to the side, I watched the captives squint as their eyes adjusted to the sudden light, a variety of expressions appearing on their faces, ranging everywhere from concern to defiance to resignation. Gazing over the prisoners with his unnerving gaze, Dyre waited patiently until the last hood had been removed, then took a step forward, his intimidating presence causing all the adventurers’ eyes to fixate on him.

  “You have all been—”

  “Hey, why don’t you just shut the fu-urk!” A rude voice almost immediately interrupted the justicar, managing to get a handful of words out before ending in a ragged choking sound.

  “Well, that didn’t take long,” a familiar woman’s voice whispered from beside me, prompting a small smile to appear on my face as I looked over towards her.

  “What did you expect, Freya?” I asked, seeing a matching smile across the blonde warrior’s expression. “Manners from Carver’s bandits?”

  “That’ll be the day,” she replied with a short laugh before shaking her head at the absurd thought.

  Turning my attention back towards the prisoners, I saw that Dyre had raised a single hand in the direction of the adventurer that had spoken over him, and the man was now clutching at a golden ring of magic that had appeared around his throat.

  “Because you have spoken out of turn, you have lost the privilege to speak for the next three days,” Dyre declared, the nervous chatter that had risen due to the man’s panic abruptly dying off. “I advise you not to test my patience again, else I will not be so lenient.”

  Pausing for several seconds to ensure that his words had sunk in, the justicar resumed speaking.

  “As I was saying, you have all been declared as prisoners of war in the conflict between the settlement of Aldford and the faction known as ‘The Dread Crew’,” Dyre stated, giving the official, if rather grandiose, name that Carver and his followers referred to themselves as. “As such, in accordance with The Rules of War set down by Mithus, you will all be kept under confinement in this prison behind me until the end of this conflict. Should any of you abuse our hospitality and incite violence during your captivity, you will be dealt in an appropriately harsh manner in accordance with Mithus’s will.”