The soldiers of Tyrman had no time to register the presence of the Divine who had dropped into their ranks, nor to recognize the panic and fear that would he would spread through their ranks. As it was, Attos’ presence in the fight went largely unnoticed in the first few seconds. Only a few were painfully aware of his arrival, and they were also given no time to comprehend what was happening.
Attos went on the attack at once, his sword flashing in intricate patterns as he struck at Samuel. The Archmage ducked and parried quickly, dancing around in a half-circle to try and catch him unaware. Attos merely flicked his iron shield up at the last possible second, catching the crystalline blade and deflecting it. Staggering slightly, Samuel was only just able to avoid the counterattack.
Eric instinctively moved forward to try and assist Samuel, but Attos sent him flying back with an almost contemptuous kick. He crashed into three enemy soldiers, sending all of them crashing down with the weight of his body. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and for a moment, all he was aware of were the black spots in his field of vision. Then his lungs refilled, and he hacked and heaved as he rolled clear of the enemies. They engaged him at once, and he was distracted from Attos.
Two flashes of movement appeared on either side of Attos, who quickly dove forward, avoiding the bolts of magic that were summoned to strike his position. Two more bolts appeared at once, tracking his movements as he darted to the side. Grunting, he swiped one of them with his sword, and the other splashed harmlessly against his shield.
Megan had heard rumors that Attos’ weapon, shield, and armor were all of the legendary class, able to withstand magical attacks and even counter specific enchantments. Those rumors were proving to be true now, as dozens of spells streamed harmlessly off his shield and body, fading to nothing as the mana that made them up was shattered. Attos fought like his daughter, striking with terrifying force and speed, all the while letting his overwhelming defense protect him.
Attos had ascended to the Divine Isles a little over a year ago. Megan wasn’t to know it, but his return had shattered the record time of Shigeru Tokugawa, who had reappeared after a mere two years locked away. Both men had descended back to the Mortal Plane in order to lead their men again. The power of a recently descended Divine was so far unchallenged, and now one had appeared at the critical moment in a battle. It was not a good omen.
The Spellblades and elite warriors who had traveled with Samuel via World Shift closed in on Attos’ position without fear, their weapons striking out. Attos was forced to give ground each time, but his own counterattacks took out one opponent after the other. He was grinning, the same blood-lust filled grin of his daughter, reveling in the challenge before him that he was so easily winning.
A temporary reprieve arrived in the form of Samuel, stepping back into the fray. His clothes were positively charged with mana now, and his blade was as bright as a miniature sun, half-blinding Attos as he went on the attack. Samuel struck with resounding force, slamming into the shield and rocking Attos with the impact. Before the god could react, he disappeared from view, reappearing from behind and lunging with his blade.
The armor held against the thrust, which was delivered with less than maximum momentum, but it obviously hurt Attos. He roared in pain as he whirled around, swinging his long sword in a brutal execution stroke. Samuel was gone again, reappearing a few feet away to let loose another barrage of bolts. Then another figure, wearing resplendent white armor, came charging out of nowhere, swinging a massive greatsword.
Attos was forced to turn and defend as Calemviir, Grandmaster and Captain of Issho-Ni, brought his heavy blade down to hit the shield with a painful screech of metal on metal. Longfang the ancient Wolf appeared behind its partner, the massive white head bearing down and clamping around Attos’ struggling body, locking him in place.
“Issho-Ni!” Calemviir’s voice bellowed out, audible even above the din of battle. “Issho-Ni!”
A shiver ran down Megan’s spine where she floated, assisting Eric with magic. She could hear the word, both name and time-honored battlecry, echoed by over a hundred throats nearby. The word rose in a swell, dominating the field and suppressing other sounds with its intensity. Every Issho-Ni warrior in the vicinity all turned to face the direction of their leader, moving to converge.
Eric was broken free of his duel as a master of Issho-Ni cut his opponent down, and he staggered back his chest heaving. It was only then that he realized his compatriots streaming past him, rushing to the spot where Longfang still held Attos captive. The warrior was struggling valiantly to free himself, but the iron grip of the wolf’s jaws couldn’t be shaken off.
Calemviir himself made no move to attack but instead took a step back. He slammed his weapon into the ground and lifted both hands, awaking his massive store of ki for a deadly attack. Dozens of ethereal shapes broke away from his body, bright white in color. They resolved into the shapes of small white wolves, racing across the battlefield and around their larger kin to dive, nipping and biting, at its pinned prey.
With a furious roar, Attos emitted a shockwave of power that knocked Longfang away, finally dropping to the ground, free of the binding. But he had no time to enjoy the temporary respite, for he turned to find himself facing over two dozen warriors of Issho-Ni standing beside Calemviir. They all had weapons or hands extended, presenting their combined force. Their faces were contorted in concentration as they released their Ki in a burst, sending large white bolts of energy flying at their enemy.
Attos was lost to sight in the barrage, the only sign of his presence being the roar of agony as the magic burned against those parts of his body not protected by shield or armor. When he was finally revealed, staggering in pain and off-balance, Eric charged in himself. He was sure that one of his superior officers would call him back, but no such warning came. Lifting the red-tinged sword, he lunged.
His sword clanged against Attos’ armor, reflecting off without leaving the slightest mark. But there was just enough force to make him stumble, and Eric was past him and bounding away before he could react. Then the warriors of Issho-Ni, one by one, dove after their junior, each one striking Attos in their turn in a seemingly endless stream of white robes and flashing metal.
It was too much for anyone, even a Divine, to handle. The last warrior to strike was Calemviir, hefting his greatsword, and the power of his upwards swing was enough to actually lift Attos off his feet, sending the man flying several feet back, to land on his back with an explosive grunt. Megan sent thin ropes of mana to keep him down. Though they did nothing, they kept him still just long enough for Samuel’s spell, which he’d spent the past few moments building up, to hit.
The spell that Samuel used to attack made virtually no noise as it struck, but it rent the armor covering Attos’ torso completely, opening great long lines through the metal with a shrieking tearing sound. Attos fell prone once again, stunned by the impact. Letting out a victorious shout, the warriors of Issho-Ni charged forward, ready to finish the fight.
They were all rebuffed by a powerful barrier as with a bright flash of light, two figures appeared between Attos and his advancing enemies. It was Lana Beran and the mage Megan had encountered in Rabanul, the one with ash-gray hair and a wild, mischievous smile. Lana held her enemies at bay with her barrier, face twisted in fierce concentration as the mage crouched beside his god, reviving him with a quick spell.
For a moment, it appeared that Lana’s barrier was going to shatter. There were great cracks in its surface, for even she couldn’t stand against so many expert warriors at once. But then the ashen-haired mage placed a hand on both her and her father, and in the blink of an eye, they vanished. Only Samuel had any time to react, reaching out with his free hand and making a strong yanking motion.
The recently descended God of War was gone, though his sword remained, flying through the air towards Samuel who caught it with ease. He muttered a quick word in the Ancient tongue, and the weapon disappeared itself, sealed away to a place only the Archmage knew. Eric and Megan, who dropped from the air with shaking legs, rushed over to him, their faces pale. Ehran got to the mage first.
“Samuel!” Ehran said, catching Samuel as he staggered and nearly fell over. “Are you alright? You used too much mana!”
“Couldn’t be avoided,” Samuel croaked. His face was pale, paler than usual, and the hand not gripping his sword was shaking. He was exhausted, Megan realized. He’d used nearly all of his mana in the brief but violent fight against Attos. “Our only chance was to defeat him before he could really warm up.”
“Did we just defeat a god?” Eric asked, supporting Samuel from the other side. “I can’t really believe it.”
“He wasn’t in his true Divine state,” Samuel replied, still breathing heavily. “He could only come back as a mortal, but with the dregs of his divine enchantments, he was still very strong.”
“You’re weak,” Ehran pointed out, not letting Samuel shift subjects. “Will you still be able to perform The Mother’s Blessing?”
“Of course I will,” Samuel said in an irritable sort of way, pushing himself free of Ehran and Eric. “I’m not nearly finished with my work today. Megan, Eric, come here.”
They both moved to stand at the spots he indicated, more than a little concerned at his sudden exhausted state, but not willing to continue Ehran’s protest. Samuel gripped each of them by the shoulder and moved them so that they were standing to either side, about two feet in front of him. Then he took a few steps back himself and raised his hands.
“We’re ready,” he said loudly. “When you feel up to it, Enri.”
The lean man appeared suddenly beside them, sword extended. “Some of us take more effort to teleport, Samuel. You could cut me a little slack.”
“This was your idea, remember?” Samuel said. “Don’t show up late to your own meeting.”
Enri rolled his eyes, grinning in spite of the tension of the moment. He gave a reassuring nod to Megan and Eric. “Don’t mind him. He gets cranky when he’s tired or hungry. I suspect he’s suffering from both right now.”
They heard Samuel snort quietly in impatience as Eric stepped into the triangle they formed, his saber still drawn and pointed upright. Samuel made an elaborate gesture with his hands, speaking fluidly in the Ancient tongue. Lines of bright purple energy erupted in the ground around them, glowing brightly even against the light of the blazing sun. Several of the Attosian soldiers, from the fringes of the position they’d assumed, turned to run at them.
“Ignore them,” Enri instructed them. “Whatever happens, don’t break formation.”
Eric, who had been reaching to draw his sword to do just that, relaxed reluctantly. The warriors of Issho-Ni, tired from their assault on Attos but not yet finished, moved to block the charging fighters. Samuel continued to mutter in a barely audible tone behind them, and they could feel the energy in the lines beginning to rise.
Something moved deep inside Eric, in reply to whatever Samuel was doing. HE assumed this was the Ancient nature that he’d been created with, and did his best not to fidget too much. Then, without warning, he was yanked from his body. Nothing more than a vague essence floating freely on the air, he turned to look at his body. The only problem, of course, was that it wasn’t there. Nor was Megan’s, or even Samuels. Then he spotted them, floating as he did, peering down at Enri.
The Paragon of Ahya was standing alone in the direct center of the triangle, his hair moving in an invisible torrent of wind. His weapon and eyes were both glowing with an intense violet. One hand was resting on the flat of his saber, and he stood between three flames of different color, each positioned at one of the points. Green for Eric, the body. Blue for Megan, the mind. White for Samuel, the soul. Slowly, the flames were drawn inward and absorbed into Enri’s body.
