The Pinnacle Warrior

Jan

“The Duchess has decided to keep the higher tier forces out of our battle today.”

Those words, echoing around his head, let Jan know that his chances of not meeting his second child were going up. His stomach twisted, knowing that in terms of numbers, both sides of this battle were about equal. The Duchess was continuing to rally more people to her support, with more soldiers bolstering her ranks every day, and he had no doubt that her numerical superiority would continue to grow. However, the rebels had quickly taken the capital and remained there, strengthening their defenses and ranks within the much more easily defended city. 

As a result, the rebels were much more consolidated while the Duchess’s forces were scattered across the country. Hundreds of kilometers separated each fortified camp from the next, and while the highest tier fighters could cross that distance quickly, the rank-and-file soldiers couldn’t. There was only so much that they could do to support each other in these circumstances without simply catering every citizen into the same place. That, however, was infeasible due to lack of accommodations and food.

Then, to make matters more difficult, the Marchioness frequently had her people sent out to subjugate or destroy elements of the Duchess’s forces, especially the smaller settlements left undefended. This continued to spread the Duchess thin, as she refused to let the people divided across the nation be crushed or enslaved. That was what their army of 250 was marching to do today. They had received credible warning about an outrider army going deep into the Duchess’s territory in the east. That force had split into two, so two armies of about 250 had been sent, along with one high Steel tier elite squad. Going off of the Duchess’s decision today, the other army was more likely to encounter high tier enemies than this one.

The rest of the plans for the fight passed in a blur, though Jan listened attentively. He, and everybody else, knew how these fights went, and without even the presence of high Steel tier elites, there was a good chance that they would lose. Worse, losing the fight against the Marchioness’s forces didn’t always mean losing your life. It also meant being captured, brought back to the Marchioness, and being forced to sign a contract with her before then being turned around and sent out to fight against the people you loved.

If the Duchess’s forces happened to be so “fortunate” as to run into an enemy army that, for whatever reason, also lacked an elite squad, it would be a bloody, knockdown, drag-out fight. The rebels weren’t allowed to show weakness, and they fought with a reckless abandon that reminded the Duchess’s followers what they were fighting for. The rebels couldn’t retreat unless their masters commanded it, and they only did so when they were convinced they couldn’t win.

Thus, the best-case scenario would be if, for a reason that wouldn’t make any sense, the enemy squad was outnumbered and lacked any Steel tier combatants. In that case, the Duchess’s forces would be able to surround and subjugate them, to bring them back to the Duchess and have their contracts broken. It was a difficult, costly effort, but the possibility of being freed, even after being taken captive, led to the Duchess’s forces fighting without overwhelming fear.

“All right, boys,” Wayne Sergeant called out. “Gear up. We’ve got maybe four minutes before first contact, and you better all be ready by the time spells and arrows start flying.”

As uncomfortable as it was, Jan had learned the lesson to keep his equipment on basically all the time, even though he had his equipment Skill. If he was ever taken by surprise, having his helmet on meant the difference between being able to be healed and dying outright.

He was in a better position than several of the others here on the march, since he had an uncommon rarity Iron tier Class. Now level 30, he’d been offered two Skills in Iron, and he was moving quickly along towards the next watershed at level 35. It was a painful amount of training that’d brought him here, but worse than that was the memories. The blood of monsters was easy to wash from his hands, but the screams of men and women with their blood slicking the spear in his hand stuck not just to his body, but to his soul.

Even so, he was willing to continue breaking off pieces of his soul to protect his family. If he was the only one whose nights were tormented with phantom grasping hands and accusing eyes, then that meant that his children were still free and his wife still safe.

Remembering that, his grip tightened on his spear’s haft, and he looked at George, Charlemagne, and Rebecca, his little squad.

“We don’t have an assigned healer today,” Jan warned them as he opened his pack. “However, in exchange, we’ve been given an extra two potions each.”

“Could be worse,” George said, only taking one of the potions and slotting it into a bandolier across his chest. He then offered the other to Jan, as he frequently did.

Then, the Archer stepped back and summoned his quiver. George and Charlemagne had the highest rarity Classes, both of them rare, and most of George’s Spectral Archer Class’s quality was tied up in his arrows. He was able to create his own arrows and make them more ethereal or physical before he shot them. Those arrows had saved every member of the party several times, and George’s generosity with his potions had also specifically saved Jan’s life several times.

Charlemagne, pulling his chainmail shirt over his head and tightening his belt, nodded. He, different from the rest of the squad, was given one healing potion and one mana potion, and he took a moment to prepare his Stone Skin Skill. As an Earthmage, he had versatile Skills, almost all of them focused on supporting his squad. Stone Skin took about three seconds for him to channel and cast, and with it, Jan’s armor was more than enough to keep him from taking mortal wounds.

Rebecca slid both of her potions into her belt’s pouches, then took out her maul and slung it over her shoulder. The solid steel head weighed at least ten kilos, and the Hammerwoman swung it around as if it were a broom. In fact, she could probably use it with just one hand, but having both to help steer the meter-long weapon was necessary to help her maneuver around the defenders’ protections.

“One minute out,” Jan said, making sure the straps on his shield were tight and every bit of his armor was well secured to his body.

Mumbles of assent filled the air, and the squad stepped forward. As a pseudo-elite squad, they weren’t supposed to make first contact with the enemy, but instead immediately react to the flow of battle to bolster a collapsing side or to press the advantage somewhere else. It wasn’t quite the same role that the Steel tier people filled, but having a squad be flexible to go where necessary in the crucial opening moments helped the individual battles go their way.

Just as he gave the warning, the army jogged over a hill, through the forest, and onto a slope that allowed them to see the valley where the small village they were coming to protect lay. There were enough buildings for maybe two hundred people to live there, with no walls or defenses of any kind. Fields spread wide in the other direction, evidently a plain that was much easier to convert into farmland than the hilly forests that the Duchess’s army was coming from.

More pressing than the buildings and farms, though, was the presence of the other army, marching down on the village. The Duchess’s army came directly from the west while the enemy marched from the north-northwest.

“Hurry, and we can keep the innocents out of the fight!”

The shouts from command quickly relayed orders to the various commanders, and Jan and his squad picked up the pace, passing the standard-bearers proving to the world that they were coming from the Duchess. The enemy seemed to have slightly fewer numbers than the Duchess’s men, which was a good sign. If they were about equally matched in level, then numbers could carry the day. However, it wasn’t nearly a large enough advantage to guarantee anything. It would undoubtedly not be an easy battle, regardless of who won or lost.

Jan stopped thinking about it as he followed the charge down the hill and towards the enemy. No longer jogging easily, the army broke out into a run. The ranged attack units held back, preparing to fire when the enemy was within range, and George remained close by, though. They weren’t part of the basic unit, but instead part of their particular squad.

When the two sides were about half a kilometer away from each other, the first attacks screamed into the air from both sides. The few Steel tiers on the side of the Duchess’s army and the rebels exchanged attacks and defenses, spells lancing forward and attempting to weaken the opposite side in the opening salvo. Defenses were raised on both sides, Wayne specifically jumping into the air, showing the quality of his Class with how he managed to get nearly ten meters into the air and flare a shield into existence above the army. A jet of water that could have cut through a dozen men without issue instead turned into a sudden downpour of mostly harmless rain.

“It’s got a debuffing aspect,” Jan called out, the same warning already echoing up and down the ranks of the army. The dozens of people with cleansing aura and Skills unleashed their defensive actions up and down the army as, presumably, the same thing happened on the opposite side of the battlefield.

As always, seeing the strength of the Steel tiers that Jan was supposed to share the battlefield with had his stomach twisting. Why had he ever wanted to be a guard? Was delving any better than this?

He had no more time for thoughts and regrets, slowing his pace only slightly as the rest of the ranged attacks slammed from each side towards the others. Prayers and curses filled the air as a swirling cyclone originated from the opposite side of the battlefield. Another of the enemies started feeding flames into the cyclone, and a firestorm flew towards the Duchess’s army.

It came from the opposite side of the battle lines, so, fortunately, Jan himself didn’t have to smell the scorched flesh and burning hair. The first lines, as always, took the brunt of the damage from that attack as the bulk of the army fought to disable the Skill. The fire cyclone only lasted for a handful of seconds before it was dissipated, and the Duchess’s army replied with three massive boulders that flew overhead and then, above the enemy army, shattered into massive payloads of half-meter-round shrapnel. Instead of a focused attack, the boulders fell like rain as the enemies tried to defend themselves.

About half of the stones were knocked off course through spells and physical effort, while the other half smashed into the waiting soldiers. The thumping of stone crashing into the ground momentarily drowned out the screams, but, as always, the sound of suffering filled the air.

Jan paid it no mind as the front lines finally came together in a clash of metal and rage. Auras from both sides strengthened the soldiers and weakened their enemies as blades, magic, and more exploded into existence between the two sides. 

Nearly immediately, Jan could see that, along the left flank of his own army, the soldiers on the front line were immediately being driven back by their enemies. Whether it was a difference in attributes or Skill quality, he didn’t know, but he didn’t need to say anything as he sprinted to their support.

Rebecca followed along beside him as Charlemagne cast Stone Skin over both of the two going to fight on the front lines. Jan felt his body press against his armor more firmly, the fat slowly lost over the past months no longer providing padding for him. Instead, with the physical change from the Skill cast on him, his body, honed by forced training and rationing, had become something that had lost all of its softness in exchange for scars.

With a dozen different effects coming from every direction, Jan crashed into the side of the enemies that were starting to gain more of an advantage over the Duchess’s forces. As a frontliner, he was less focused on dealing killing blows, but his latest Skill wasn’t at all for being a guard. Instead of being a protector, he was now a man who fought on the front lines of a war, and he needed to be able to kill things if necessary.

With a draw on his mana that was risky so early in the battle, Jan stabbed forward. A pale blue silhouette appeared around his spear as he jabbed his weapon into the side of a man swinging a polearm down at one of Jan’s fellows.

The rebel noticed his approach and tried to protect himself, but Jan was too quick. His spear sliced into the other man’s elbow. He hated the feeling of hurting a person, but Jan pressed on, trying to take the man out of the fight.

Unfortunately, the rebel’s frontliner came then, a Shieldmaster holding a tower shield. A taunting Skill forced Jan’s attention towards the new arrival, who glowed with defensive Skills. Jan shouted as he tried to press into the enemy quickly, but to no avail. A spear wasn’t much of a match for a tower shield, and he couldn’t get past the strong defense being presented to him.

Fortunately, he wasn’t alone.

The Shieldmaster couldn’t do much to hurt Jan in return, but other enemies closed in, Jan knew. Then, Rebecca appeared. Her maul had whistled through the air before smashing into the edge of the shield. Evidently, Rebecca’s uncommon rarity Class was better than this Shieldmaster’s, or maybe she was just much higher level.

Whatever the case was, her strike smashed him to the side, ripping him free of whatever Skill held him grounded. The enemy tumbled across the ground, and, even if he wasn’t still drawn towards them by their attention-drawing Skill, Jan knew what he needed to do. With a quick jump forward, he stabbed his spear down and was revolted by the large pool of experience that flooded into him.

The others in his squad made themselves known, the ground surging below some of their enemies as blurs of arrows flew past them. A series of blurring lights flashed past as the closest enemies were tied up by Charlemagne. With the arrival of Jan’s squad, the tide of the battle here stabilized, though casualties were building up on both sides. 

“Steady!” Jan commanded, using Rallying Cry. His Power and Alacrity surged for a short moment, and he stood strong against two men swinging swords at him. Stepping back, he could see that the fight was going in favor of the Duchess’s army. He smiled, hoping that they could fully take the battle and quickly to preserve as many lives as possible.

That thought seemed to be a curse, as that was the moment when the enemy’s hidden Steel tier elites appeared. Jan couldn’t react as a wall of fire exploded into existence. It blocked off the Duchess’s army’s path of retreat as the other four Steel tier enemies made themselves known. Three of the strongest auras supporting the army disappeared as an Assassin appeared in the middle of the ranks. Jan couldn’t say if his commanding officers were murdered or simply knocked out, but the auras that allowed the army to fight against the rebels disappeared.

Then, the front lines that his squad had been dominating in started to crumble. The enemies were strengthened by another aura, their weapons dripping with a yellow mana, and each hit weakened him. The Marchioness’s soldiers grew stronger as he faltered, and the wounds started to pile up. With  the tide of battle shifting, Jan could feel that his enemies stopped trying to exterminate his people but instead to knock them out. 

“Fight!” he screamed, raising his shield against a flurry of blows. “For your families!”

Every one of the soldiers nearby squared their shoulders and pressed harder against the enemy, but with the sudden loss of all their highest tier auras, the army was losing fast. While Jan and Rebecca held out for a while, the rest of the enemy just flooded past them. He watched as a half dozen other soldiers were swarmed and held down to the ground, spear butts and shields smashing limbs and bodies until the person went still. Screams of terror and pain filled the air as Jan watched his own fate approach.

Rebecca took a massive swing with her maul, pulverizing one of the attackers. They flew back silently, somehow still alive, but only barely. The body tumbled across the ground as two more people smashed weapons of their own into her knees. Her legs collapsed, and Rebecca went down under a flurry of kicks, punches, and blunted strikes. She fought fiercely, but her grunts of effort quickly became cries of pain. 

Jan threw himself to her support, but three men threw themselves at his shield and hauled him to the ground, strikes beginning to fall on his back as he groaned. Stone Skin and his armor worked in tandem to keep his bones from breaking, but it was just a matter of time before he was knocked unconscious.

Then, the weakness given by the sickly yellow aura faded. 

While the supportive auras from the fallen commanding officers didn’t reappear, the rebels’ disappeared as well. The crackle of fire disappeared, a whooshing sound wind and rain drowning it out before the sound of a flute seemed to caress his ears, and the dozens of wounds and aches faded as something came to his support. Was it just unconsciousness coming?

“Retreat! High Steel squad, stronger than ours!”

Rebel shouts filled the air, and the soldiers beating him down turned and began running away. Jan raised his head and watched the Assassin that’d penetrated the Duchess’s ranks fighting for his life. He wore dark armor, and fought  against a giant. She was female, which was only visible because of the hint of curves around her breasts and hips. Black leather armor shone in the light of the afternoon sun, and two large swords flashed in a pattern that Jan’s eyes couldn’t keep up with. However, he could easily read the panic in the Assassin’s bearing as he desperately attempted to escape. 

The Steel tier reinforcement seemed to be mocking the Assassin, her blades moving with a slowness that seemed casual. Each attack she made cut deep into the Assassin’s limbs, and after a few seconds, he was unable to stay standing. Her blades rose to cut him down, but another woman’s voice cut her off.

“Muti! Don’t kill. We might be able to save them.”

In response, the would-be executioner dismissed the weapon in her right hand and instead delivered a thunderous punch to the side of the crippled man’s head. He fell in a pile, unconscious or possibly dead. Someone seemed to start to say something to this Muti in response to that, but she didn’t care. Instead, she disappeared from Jan’s gaze, though he could see the path of her movement from the groans of pain and suddenly collapsing enemy soldiers. He could have sworn he heard something like laughter as she went, but that couldn’t be the case. Then, a massive man appeared on the far side of the enemy forces, at least five meters tall. He slammed his axe against his shield, and every one of the enemy soldiers was forced to go towards him, attacking in a frenzy. 

“Are they Barbarians?” Jan asked himself as he struggled to his feet. The healing from the song continued to help him recover, and he stumbled over to Rebecca to see how she was. Her nose was bloodied and both eyes swollen shut, but she was breathing. With a snort, she cleared the blood from her nostrils and forced herself to a sitting position. 

“Can’t see anything,” she grumbled as she pulled a potion out and downed it. She quickly started healing as she continued, “This song’s great, though.”

“Yeah,” Jan answered as someone came close. It was a man that, in other circumstances, may have been a somewhat handsome, if foppish, traveler. He wore a massive hat, a duster, and armor underneath, but most importantly to Jan, he was playing the flute.

“Only Muti’s a Barbarian, Felix’s got a Skill to get that big,” he said, somehow still playing his flute as he said it. 

Jan wanted to ask more, but then a strange storm billowed overhead. The clouds were brown? And then the ground underfoot shifted before the cloud disappeared. What happened? Was it the enemy Steel tiers getting shut down?

“I don’t have Spectral Graviton to hold them down,” the voice that’d chastised the Barbarian said from surprisingly close by. Jan turned to look at the woman who’d spoken, who was also huge. She wore dark armor, almost black, with a draconic helmet that covered her whole face. A shield and hammer hung from her hands, and every part of her armor seemed to radiate danger. 

“You chose Meteoric Descent,” the flute player replied with a shrug. “You could just…”

“I’d kill everyone in a single moment,” she scoffed back. “I’m not a mass murderer, Benedict.”

“I didn’t think you would, but it is an option if you’re wanting to hit everyone at once.”

“This is more of a warmup than anything else, and if I’m not careful, I’m killing a hundred people,” she shook her head. Something about her was familiar, something Jan swore he knew. Before he could wonder, though, the intimidating fighter sighed. “I guess I’ll just start taking people down. No need for weapons, though.”

At that, she dismissed her shield and hammer, looking down at Jan and Rebecca. By now, the Hammerwoman could see, and was staring at the dark-armored woman with undisguised worship. The armored woman seemed to stop and stare for a second before turning back towards the fight.

“I’ll take care of this,” she nodded. There seemed to be a new, warmer tone to her voice as she said it. “And Benedict, you should get the most wounded together for me by the time I come back. And if you could find some chains or something to tie up the prisoners, that’d be great too.”

He waved her off, and she didn’t look at him as she rushed forward. A shower of soil exploded from behind her as she ran towards the combat. Jan could barely see her move as she jumped from one person to the next. She just jumped on their backs, bearing them to the ground before, with a single punch, she rendered them unconscious. 

“You guys aren’t in danger of dying, are you?” Benedict the Bard asked as he looked down at the two. “Astrid can take care of serious wounds, but only for eight people, so hang on if you can.”

“Astrid?” Jan asked, his mind suddenly racing. There was no way, right?

“Astrid Warrior,” Benedict confirmed, nodding in the direction of the Warrior that had already taken fifteen people out of the fight without killing them. Or using a weapon. Or struggling at all. “She’s our party leader. Why do you ask?”

Jan swallowed, and suddenly her frame fit into his memory. With years of delving and fighting, could that be her? Brighid and Savraba’d said that she’d gained a lot of levels, but tearing through an entire army, having already dealt with most of the Steel tiers so easily?

“Hey, your brain working?” Benedict insisted, bringing Jan’s attention back to him. When Jan stared up at him, the Bard asked again, “Why were you so much more curious about her than the rest of us?”

“It’s… well, I think she’s my wife’s best friend,” Jan said, wondering what kind of support the Duchess’s army’d just gotten.