Chapter 39

 

 

With the plan decided there was no reason to delay and by midafternoon the assault was under way.

Although parts of the river had iced over, it wasn’t nearly as thick as the ice on the lake and broke very easily. Running water made freezing more difficult and the water coming from inland wouldn’t be as cold.

As the ship skirted a bend in the river, Brant leapt from the rail and landed on the snowy bank without issue. He’d lead the army hiding in the ruins of the Georgetown area in the attack on the southwestern corner of Grand Rapids.

Marena’s Mercy led the way up the river with Storm Raider trailing a few dozen metres behind.

The eight-metre-tall wall which had been built was a hodgepodge of different materials. Corrugated steel sheets, slabs of concrete, bricks, sandbags, tree logs. In fact, all the trees along the riverbank that I remembered from our previous journeys up and down the river had been cut down and no longer offered any cover.

The analysis from the scouts was spot on. They were relying on the river to provide extra protection, keep assailants at a distance and prevent them from taking advantage of the poorer fortifications. Away from the river, the wall was more uniform and constructed from podium-purchased blocks or building materials created by specialist civilian classes. Some of the guard towers may have been entirely pre-purchased.

With the treeline deforested, the ships were spotted immediately, and alarms were raised.

We kept the cannons silent until we neared the first of the intact bridges crossing the river. Our first dummy platoon was hidden in an old, excavated building site or quarry on the other bank.

“Marena’s Mercy’s cannon will concentrate on the gatehouse. Storm Raider, demolish the wall on the left,” I commanded.

The pounding thud of cannon’s firing reverberated through the ship, and we watched on the navigation hub screens.

The Hellstrike rounds had a minimum range of one hundred metres. Fortunately, this stretch of the river was relatively straight for three times that distance, and we didn’t have to rely on the splinter cannon. Structural damage was the primary purpose of the Hellstrike round. Those manning the splinter cannon instead took potshots at the gawping looky-loos standing atop the wall fortifications.

The gatehouse guarding the bridge itself looked quite formidable. It was a circular tower, four storeys high, twice that of the surrounding wall. There were dozens of shooting positions, and the ships were peppered with high-calibre gunfire once we were in range. For that reason, nobody was on deck. The ships would take some minor durability damage, but nothing they wouldn’t regenerate from quite quickly.

The gatehouse was about ten metres back from the bridge, but on either side, the distance to the riverbank had been plugged with rubble and barbed wire. It wouldn’t be easy to climb over pre-integration, but there were quite a few nimble people in our ranks who would have little trouble going over with their stat and skill boosts.

The plan wasn’t to have the diversion platoons try and take the gatehouse from the outside, though. We’d do our best to level that structure and then they would enter through gaps made in the wall by Storm Raider further down the line.

The first salvo of four Hellstrike shots pounded into the top of the gatehouse. They exploded in a great conflagration, the heat blast adding to the concussive wave of the demon-forged steel cores. Brotherhood goons were thrown off or back from their emplacements and several appeared to have been left as little more than smears on the grey walls. However, apart from a few small chunks at the impact site, the integrity of the gatehouse walls was undiminished.

The same could not be said for the stretch of wall targeted by Storm Raider. Huge rents in the patchwork barrier had been blown away at the impact sites. This caused a chain reaction as other parts of the hastily constructed wall started to crumble without the support of the sections that lay in shattered pieces.

It was a stark example of the difference between defences built using old-world materials with little or no mana infusion in the construction and something that had been purchased directly from the Framework. Or had been built with the proper materials by appropriately skilled artisans. A wooden palisade built by my growing forest goblin workforce would have fared better against the cannon barrage than the concrete slabs they’d poured and winched into position.

After four more salvos of Hellstrike rounds, we’d closed to within one hundred metres and had to rely on the splinter cannons. The gatehouse still stood; it was pockmarked and smoking where the twenty shells had impacted. Some of the openings and windows had been blown significantly wider and it was at these spots the splinter gunners concentrated their fire. Both to widen those gaps and to send energy blasts into the building’s interior to inflict further havoc on the defenders.

However, once we reached the bridge that the gatehouse loomed over, we encountered our first hiccough. The river kicked to the right and partially hid what was on the other side. The bridge was indeed intact, but it had been a two-lane highway which were technically separate bridges. They’d collapsed the second lane into the river, and it blocked our path.

The obstacle didn’t present a major problem for a dungeon ship. What remained of the bridge was mostly submerged and Marena’s Mercy rose up to the waterline and the hull undulated over the bit of rubble that poked above the water. The issue was that it hadn’t been anticipated and drained our low reserves even further.

But we’d waited too long to finish off Luca already. Following Ashli’s interference in the spiritual battle he was stronger than ever. Waiting a couple more weeks was no longer an option. It’s why I was willing to do this with Summon Rift Beast still on cooldown.

“Kristoff, torpedo that rubble behind us when you get enough distance,” I ordered once Storm Raider followed us over the obstruction.

“Aye, Captain,” his voice acknowledged through the hub.

Once we were a hundred metres further downriver, our cannon pounded the other side of the gatehouse. There had been far fewer spells and gunfire aimed at us as we sailed away than when we sailed towards the defensive outpost. Decent evidence that we had severely disrupted their combat potential and would leave the structure almost useless once we were out of range.

Somebody did fire a rocket at the ship, but the quick reactions of one of the splinter gunners meant it was met with an opposing force in mid-air that knocked it off course and caused it to explode prematurely.

As we passed out of range, the diversion platoon began their ground-based assault.

Several teams ran across the bridge, while a few more crossed via the water a bit further down, where the river narrowed, using canoes. They didn’t get to cross without harassment, but the attacks from within the city were sporadic. A couple of canoes were sunk, and the occupants were dunked into the freezing cold of the river. Additionally, maybe half a dozen of those crossing via the bridge were hit by the emplacements that remained and had to be hauled to safety.

The majority got to the other bank unharmed, and I observed them swarming through the holes we’d made in the defensive line before we turned out of sight. There would be stiffer resistance within the walls, but I had to trust they would follow orders and not overextend themselves. Their purpose was to prevent the Brotherhood from concentrating their response where it would be most effective. They had the few portable shield generators we had scavenged from the bottom of the lake after dealing Reed’s army a week ago. That would offer them protection once they got set up inside.

Once past the right turn, we had another straight stretch for almost a kilometre before the river kinked to the left and took us northward through the centre of old Grand Rapids. This was where most of the bridges and other gatehouses were concentrated. There were a few other obstructions littering the river, but we could spot these from far enough away that we could break them up with torpedoes and they didn’t delay us.

In this manner, we proceeded up the river. I updated the plan on the fly a little after seeing how poorly some parts of the wall stood up to Hellstrike shells and kept up the barrage. Dismantling the walls all along distance we sailed.

We passed six gatehouse bastions, all of them situated at the end of a bridge over the river. We only had three more diversion squads in place but hit all six bastions to keep the defenders guessing as to where the secondary invasions would be coming from.

“That’s the last of them before Riverside Park,” Jackson whispered. “It’s half a click further upriver. Hopefully, after seeing what we’ve just done they’ll assume we are sailing to shell the big bastion on the North Park bridge.”

There was one last gatehouse built on the I-96 and it was about another half a kilometre beyond where we planned to stop.

I nodded and turned to Ana. “How are the ships?”

“Marena’s Mercy has taken the brunt of incoming fire. Her integrity is down to 82% and Storm Raider is at 89%. But I’ve redirected all ambient energy absorption into our reserves, so they aren’t regenerating for the moment. It's better than we projected by 5%.”

“Then we’re good to go.” I pressed a button on the hub and addressed the crew. “We’re almost in position. Prepare to disembark.”

Jackson, LT, and Tavar nodded or grinned and rushed out of the Bridge to take up their positions with their platoons.

“Keep up the barrage along the river line, Ana. We don’t want them to figure out the detour we plan to take.”

There was a short tense wait as we closed the distance. Helpfully, there was a small slipway and jetty to the left side of the inlet outside the wall that gave us a good point to aim for and we started to bombard that area once it was in range. Only the very eagle-eyed would realise that Anastasia was hitting that spot twice as frequently as anywhere else.

By the time we got to the slipway, the bridge, wall, and the grating they’d put in the water was a molten, smoking ruin. Our splinter gunners unleashed a barrage of concussive blasts into the rubble to further disperse it out of the way and we sailed through the gap.

The space between the two stretches of land was only five metres and the two ships were wider than that in their mark three forms. We could have resized both vessels down to the mark one external size, but that would have taken time and compromised some of our firepower. Instead, Anastasia utilised some of her remaining energy reserves and the ships rode higher on the water until the curved hulls narrowed enough to squeeze through. The cimmeric crystal of the exterior screeched as it was scratched by rock and the metal of girders amidst the destruction.

But it put us inside the walls. The interior lake wasn’t very large, roughly one hundred metres wide and we glided up to one side of the kayak launching pads. There was a parking lot just in front of us and not far beyond that, the suburban housing. However, most importantly, the secondary inner wall was still under construction and could easily be bypassed.

Brotherhood soldiers were already rushing towards the ships. Many of them had been smart enough to get off the walls while it had been under bombardment. Storm Raider swept in behind us and settled on the other side of the kayak jetty.

Simultaneously, the splinter cannons erupted once more. Between the two ships, we covered a 360-degree arc of destruction and pounded the onrushing Brotherhood soldiers. The mob of men and women of all different species were thrown into disarray when the concussive blasts landed in amongst them and some of their brethren were torn apart or were thrown wheeling through the air like discarded rag dolls.

“Ana, you and Doyle stay aboard for now. According to the intel LT gathered from Carla, the Brotherhood has a command outpost half a kilometre to the southeast of here. That’s in range of the Hellstrike Cannon.”

“It was a school, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, fields and parking lots all around it, so you’re unlikely to hit places where people are living by accident.”

Anastasia pulled a cross-eyed face making it clear that wouldn’t have been a deterrent to her if there had been. “Alright, but I’m not staying behind for the rest of the battle.”

“This is only until we secure the surrounding area. When we push south, I want you with me. Besides. With the amount of shelling we’ve been doing our ammunition reserves have to be running low.”

She smiled brightly at my assurance, and I turned to Shana and Fang Mei. “Let’s get this invasion under way.”

 

***

Brant

 

 

The alarm beeped on Brant’s wristwatch. An hour had passed since the captain had sailed away and started the attack on Grand Rapids. The multiple plumes of smoke billowing into the air upriver were evidence enough that the assault had unfolded as planned. That and the captain hadn’t used his ability to contact Brant and order him to halt the Southern offensive.

He’d been using binoculars to assess the strength of the enemy atop the walls. Before the captain’s barrage had started, he could count close to two hundred Brotherhood soldiers visible on the parapets of their defences. Over the last hour, that number had dropped by half.

Positive news indeed. It certainly suggested the distraction tactic had worked and defenders had been pulled away from here to cover elsewhere. But there was only one way to know for sure.

“Tell the sappers to get the bomb-wagons on the move,” he ordered.

The order was passed down the line until it reached the sapper squads. They uncovered the bomb-wagons that had been covered in camouflage and got them rolling down the two main roads that intersected with the enemy fortifications a few hundred metres away. They’d selected this spot precisely because there were roads and the enemy had cleared all obstructions out of the way.

Nature was rapidly reclaiming the abandoned towns and cities. Without weeding or tending, the tarmac of many roads had cracked and become close to unusable. But the area around the wall had been maintained and the Brotherhood would come to regret that.

Brant had shaken his head in disgust at the sloppy preparations but had to remind himself the Brotherhood weren’t a military outfit. They were criminals, not insurgents. And if it lowered the danger for his troops, all the better.

The bomb-wagons were made from the frames of SUV’s that were now almost useless. The engines and most of the interior, including the floor, had been stripped or cut out. Any extraneous weight had been removed. Planks of mana-infused timber had been secured on the exterior and it gave them a decent degree of protection.

The wagons were packed with explosives, both conventional and magical. Without engines, the forward momentum was provided by teams of collared beast mobs harnessed at the back of the wagon like a reverse carriage.

Direction was provided by members of the sapper squad. The captain had purchased several copies of the Mage Hand cantrip for just this purpose. It allowed them to steer the vehicle without being inside it, which would be rather fatal considering what they were about to be used for.

A dozen of the wood-encased contraptions started to rumble down the two roads, six on each. It didn’t take long before they were spotted by the lookouts on the walls and elicited a violent reaction.

Bullets came first but being non-magical they bounced off the planks barely splintering the wood. Spells flew down next and these were a bit more impactful. The leading bomb-wagons were set alight, or the wheels were damaged by clever and accurate ranged attacks. The sappers in control of the lead vehicles knew what to do and angled the four damaged wagons off the side of the roads and made room for the next rank that came in behind them.

Some of the bomb-wagons being disabled had been factored into the plan. Each wagon was loaded with enough explosive material that only a couple making it to the wall should be sufficient to bring it down. But more making contact would always be better.

Two more wagons were forced to abandon the attack and be pulled off the road before they got close enough that the ranged attacks had difficulty targeting the wheels. Too late, those up top thought about throwing objects down to the ground to disrupt the trundling contraptions from reaching their destination.

When the bomb-wagons reached within ten metres, they spread out as best they could and contacted the base of the defences. Once nestled up against the wall they erupted in several mighty explosions, triggered by the sapper teams. Fresh plumes of black smoke were added to the columns already climbing to the heavens that could be seen to the north of them.

The captain had been right about not waiting. You could see that the wall here was freshly completed. If the Brotherhood had been given more time, surely somebody would have thought about installing hedgehog barriers in front of the walls and that would have severely compromised this strategy.

Brant stood from his camouflaged position and waved the prearranged hand signal to the troops to prepare for the attack. He smiled while he watched a sixty-metre stretch of the wall collapse backwards in on itself and reveal the city on the other side. Screams and calls for help carried on the wind to their position, and he was reminded of his tours in Afghanistan.

Back then he would never have thought he’d be doing the same thing in his home state of Michigan that he’d had to do in the Middle East.

He shook off the reminiscence, it wouldn’t do him or anybody else any good if he was distracted. “Are you ready, Amber?” he asked.

The sharp-tongued militiawoman nodded her head in assent but was clearly nervous. Her hands wrapped, released, and rewrapped around the hilt of her sabre almost constantly.

Brant couldn’t shift a hint of paternal protectiveness. The young woman was only a couple of months on the adult side of eighteen. He’d not been any older when he enlisted, but that was different. His father and grandfather had served, so had all three of his older brothers. He’d wanted to be like them throughout his teenage years. He’d been prepared almost from the cradle and knew what to expect. Even so, the reality of active combat had been hard to adjust to.

For youngsters like Amber and her friends, this had all been forced upon them.

He put his big hand on her shoulder. “You can stay back with the medical corps. Guard their backs until after the first wave has pushed through.”

That was where most of the younger fighters had been assigned. Jackson Templeton’s other young friends were part of that group.

Amber shuddered and then her shoulder stiffened under his hand. Her brown eyes met his. “No, I’m going to see this through.”

Very well. If that was her choice, Brant wouldn’t stand in the way. “Stick by me and watch my six then.”

“Sure thing, Chief.”

Addressing the assembled platoons Brant shouted out. “Stay in formation and move out. Water mages get ready to douse those flames. Forward!”

Close to five thousand warriors jogged forward at his order. Their shields led the way as they made for the gap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 40

 

 

I flicked droplets of blood from the tip of my Ice Blade onto the ground and kicked the leonid warrior who’d fallen to his knees with a bewildered expression out of the way. A swift heart strike had finished him off, he just hadn’t realised it yet. The XP notification pulsed on my periphery after I’d taken a few steps past him up the stairs.

I emerged on the ruined rooftop of the last bastion to fall along the Western half of Grand Rapids. It reminded me of archive footage of when the Soviet Union reclaimed war-torn Nazi-occupied cities during World War Two. Death and destruction were all around me, but all I could feel was a sense of elation and victory.

Shana, Fang Mei, and Ana joined me up top and a quick reccy of the rubble up here confirmed there were no further threats hidden to endanger the rest of our forces who still fought with the remainder of the last Brotherhood attack.

“A lot of the Bastion defenders were willing to surrender which makes a change from the last few waves of attackers on the ground,” Shana noted. “Except for the leonid commander. I don’t suppose there is any chance that is Luca?” She nudged the freshly dead body with the toe of her boot.

I shook my head in the negative.

“Shame.” Shana shrugged her shoulders and then spotted an enemy down below who had exposed themselves. She drew an arrow and shot it in a single smooth motion. “I’m running low on mana.”

“Everybody is,” Fang Mei agreed. “It’s been a hard slog, especially since they started fighting to the very last man. When did they become such fanatics?”

“Yeah, this sucks monkey-balls,” Anastasia bitched. “If they all get themselves killed, who is going to be left to feed my dungeon?”

<It would seem Luca got rewarded for the screwed-up spiritual contest. It’s improved his hold on his minions. Strong enough to inspire suicidal fanaticism.>

I’d not had the time to give everyone the full breakdown of what occurred during the contest. That was a longer discussion for tomorrow. Once we held Grand Rapids.

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of deserving citizens to walk the dungeon,” I assured her. “Wherever there is conquest and brutal regimes, there are the cowardly collaborators looking to curry favour and profit from the oppressors.”

“Low-level losers, you mean. They barely qualify as snacks.”

“Eat enough snacks and you’ll be just as full,” Shana chuckled and squeezed Ana’s shoulder fondly.

“Let’s head back down,” I suggested. “We’ve taken the northern third of the city, and the scouts have reported Brant’s forces have secured most of the south. They should have it all within the hour and then it’s time to close the door on Luca’s resistance.”

There were a few resigned nods of agreement, and we navigated the rubble-strewn steps downwards.

So far, the battle had largely gone as I expected.

Securing the area around Riverside Park hadn’t taxed the three thousand soldiers I’d brought with me too much. But then the Brotherhood hadn’t expected us to attack at that point and hadn’t been prepared.

The ships bombarded the school half a kilometre inland where the garrison for that part of the city had been sited. It was conveniently just within the range of the Hellstrike Missiles, and they absolutely levelled the place. No help came to the surviving wall defenders from that direction.

From the ships, we could see the Northern Bastion across the enclosed parkland from the far end of the Riverside Lake. It was about eight hundred metres away. Too far to bombard from where the ships were moored up. Kristoff took Storm Raider back out onto the river and sailed around the bend until he was close enough to hit the structure. I sent Danny with a half-legion of five hundred contracted soldiers North to secure what was left.

Once the bastion was neutralised and we didn’t have to worry about being attacked from behind, Danny’s orders had been to work his way down Fuller Avenue. That road ran through the centre of the walled in part of Grand Rapids.

LT led a half-legion East, down 3 Mile Road, which ran all the way to the walls on the other side. From there I left it up to LT to decide what to do next. Our scouting reports from that side of the Brotherhood defences were a bit sketchy. If he could take their positions and work down the wall then great, if not, his people would cut back across town and try to link back up with the main army.

Jackson led the third of the six half-legions we’d brought for this assault. They rampaged through the packed urban area, intercepting the incoming or fleeing Brotherhood warriors. His first port of call would be the ruins of the school garrison just in case something was left after all.

Additionally, he had the locations of several other schools in the urban sprawl marked on his map and his job would be to secure them for us. Because he was eighteen, Jackson could still open any schools that had been sealed by the defenders using the default shielding they’d been gifted after integration.

That left half of the army in the north, fifteen hundred soldiers all told, to come with me. We worked our way down Monroe Avenue, a road that followed the river southwards. My intention had been to link up with each of the distraction forces that had crossed the river and were keeping the Brotherhood defenders occupied. Both relieving them of the pressure and boosting the numbers of my attack force.

After we had absorbed the second of the three distraction forces in the central area of Grand Rapids. I sent a half-legion under Tavar Aenarion’s command East into the Highland Park area of the city while the rest of us pushed into the heart of downtown Grand Rapids.

The fighting here had been the most difficult we’d encountered and the first time that the retaliatory groups who struck at our flanks from deeper in the city fought to the very last man. Thankfully, we ‘outgunned’ them with superior classes and higher levels, but it had used up more of our resources than had been anticipated.

The ladies weren’t the only ones whose mana was tapped out. My troops had been popping pills and quaffing potions whenever they could, but the cooldowns were longer than the breaks between waves of attackers. I’d been forced to use some of my charges of Dragon’s Breath to take the last of the bastions. If it hadn’t been for Ana’s Drain ability, we might even have had to retreat and come back later.

The blitzkrieg advance we’d adopted would have to falter. Too many of those under my command needed an hour, maybe two, of respite to recover and this bastion made a logical focal point for us to regroup.

I used Clarion’s Call to issue some orders.

Kristoff, Doyle, bring Storm Raider and Marena’s Mercy to downtown. We’ve taken the final central bastion, but it’s been a hard slog. We need the ranged support from the ships to provide cover while we rest and somewhere to stow the wounded.

Ideally, I’d have left the ships where they were considering how low their energy reserves were. I’d set out to our current destination with fifteen hundred soldiers, the three forces we’d linked up with had started out with a similar number combined. After accounting for the five hundred I’d sent off with Tavar and the casualties, I had just shy of one thousand soldiers capable of fighting.

Deaths had been relatively low in number. A little over three hundred and the other twelve hundred casualties were those who’d lost a significant chunk of their Health stat or were very low on Hit Points. Being in an active battle zone suppressed natural HP recuperation and we were relying on potions and Aid enchantments on gear to slowly get back into fighting shape.

It was those whose health was already in the red that I worried about the most. I knew from my own experiences how badly combat effectiveness was compromised when you were carrying those kinds of injuries. Getting them onto the ships where they could recover in relative safety was a priority.

“I’ve called for the ships to join us here. We can get the wounded down below and maybe even run a few prisoners through the dungeon to recover some of the lost energy,” I informed the group. “When we’ve got them in position and taken a breather, we’ll push on. Danny, Jackson, and LT’s groups shouldn’t be too far off from linking back up with us either.”

<Good idea> Quixbix complimented me. <And while you wait, Luca’s sent another wave of goons to entertain you.>

My eyes scanned the horizon and spotted them. A thousand more hollering maniacs heedlessly charged towards us from the direction of Heritage Hill. A smaller group than in previous waves but we’d barely recovered from the last lot.

“Defensive positions!” I yelled out to alert the squads around me. “We’ve got incoming at two o’clock.”

“This makes how many we’ve faced off against?” I asked Quixbix.

<You’re north of thirty-five thousand, but my count isn’t one hundred percent accurate, though. It could be a bit more. And some of those are likely to be repeat customers. I’ve recognised a few of those who sensibly fled earlier return in the manic kamikaze state. Luca’s doing, no doubt.”

Thirty-five thousand. Roughly half of what we estimated Luca had under his command. Wearily, I returned to my battle stance and hurried into position behind some barricades we’d captured and turned about to face the open city and not the walls. The barrier plugged the gap between the buildings that lined the road.

The captured shield generators ran on mana, and we had precious little of that left to power them. They would be held in reserved to protect the wounded who couldn’t protect themselves.

The sole silver lining to this shitty situation was that if we were bearing the brunt of the attacks, then the groups elsewhere ought to be having an easier time of it.

Unless our estimations of enemy numbers were way off in a bad way. Best not to think about that.

The mob of Brotherhood fighters charged down the boulevard. With mana running low, I’d given orders for the Earth-born people to scavenge the weapons of the fallen. One of the few things Grand Rapids seemed to have a surplus of was automatic weaponry and ammunition.

The crack of gunfire erupted when the attacking mob got within fifty metres of our position. The bullets weren’t that much more effective against the Brotherhood goons than they were against my people, but it softened up the incoming tide.

A few of those more familiar with regular firearms use favoured bolt action rifles over the spray and pray automatics. A single well-placed headshot was far more effective than three or four bullets to an armoured chest.

Then the forward group clattered into the barrier and melee fighting began. For this situation, I summoned a Halberd from my inventory received as a drop from killing the Alpha Centaur Stallion outside Belshgar Bastion.

 

Hard-hitting Halberd

Bladed Polearm Weapon

Damage: 20 + STR stat (Piercing)

Stat: Halberd skill +10

Special: This weapon has a major Armour Breaker enchantment upon it. The durability of items struck by the halberd is reduced by 60% of the unmitigated damage of the strike.

Items enchanted in this manner do accumulate more wear and tear than typical and will require specialist repair work to keep them in top condition.

Durability: 926/1,000

 

When I was properly geared up, this weapon could strip armour or weapons of more than sixty points of their durability every time they were hit. Unless the equipment was made from a substance that afforded it greater protection or had been magically protected. There was a cost, though. The durability of the halberd dropped more quickly too. Not anywhere near as rapidly as the armour and weapons it struck, of course, but it was usually a couple of points lower each time I used it in battle.

And we didn’t currently have anyone in the faction with the smithing skills to repair enchanted weaponry. We probably would in a few months. Susan and Quinntexxis had been busy building our crafter infrastructure.

The durability loss was not the reason I still favoured my Ice Blades, though. My blades were faster, and I was much better skilled in their use. Frequently, they bypassed armour altogether with well-placed slashes and killed the enemy without the need to render their armour useless in the first place.

However, in situations like this where I was defending a barricade, the greater reach of the halberd made it the favourable selection. Carving off pieces of enemy armour and making them easier to kill was simply a bonus.

The first few Brotherhood fighters reached the barricade and tried to slow down. There were steel spikes and cut wooden spears that were pointed towards them. Sadly for the swift vanguard, their fellow zealots behind them didn’t get the memo and heedlessly slammed into the backs of their fellows and forced them forward.

The marginally luckier ones managed to evade being impaled on the prongs of the barriers and were instead pushed up against the wall part. And that is when the squads manning the defences with me jabbed our polearm weapons into their heads and exposed chests.

Their manoeuvrability while crushed up against the barrier was limited and they died quickly. That was the end of the easy part for us. The second row of attackers used the dead and dying bodies of the first row to clamber up on top of the barricade and pour over to attack.

The blade of my halberd skewered one enterprising ganger in the crotch when he leapt over the top of me. Using his momentum and a little extra heft from me, I shovelled him over my shoulder and pulled the halberd from his nether regions. Fang Mei fell upon him with her chaos daggers and finished him off.

But he was followed by a swarm of other eager battlers who appeared to have lost all semblance of self-preservation. We’d be overrun before long at this rate. The barrier had done its job, funnelled them into a massed blob, thinned their numbers, and slowed them down.

“Pull back to the bastion!” I cried out and rushed back over to the rubble-strewn mess that surrounded it. My soldiers quickly disengaged and took cover within the shattered masonry away from the horde who acted like an armed zombie menace.

The ground surrounding the bastion was better for what was coming. It was open and allowed us to spread out and make the best use of our individual combat abilities. Also, it let the bombardiers amongst us work without fear of killing their own team.

“Hit them with the alchemic grenades!” I roared when the last of our people were clear.

Fifty or sixty of the Brotherhood fighters had already cleared the barrier and were giving chase, but the barrier itself had to have a couple of hundred of them swarming over it with double that crowding in behind. Nice and tight with no thought for tactical finesse.

Dozens of Sheamus’ alchemic grenades were lobbed or launched into the air and deposited on or around the barrier where they exploded on contact. Bodies and twisted bits of metal and stone were thrown in all directions. Cries and moans of pain-ridden anguish filled the ears of those not deafened by the cacophonous explosions.

We really needed that maniacal, alchemic genius back on his feet as soon as possible. The stock of supplies he’d created before his head injury had seemed so large, but we were burning through them at an alarming rate. Unfortunately, sourcing advanced healing options for Sheamus and Malky was merely one of my many priorities.

However, just like a zombie horde, the massive explosive destruction of several hundred horde members didn’t deter those who pushed from behind and they poured out of the smoke. Carnage came with the second half of this attack force.

“Here they come,” I called out unnecessarily and summoned my Ice Blades, the fight was on.

 

***

 

It took another ten minutes to finish this wave off. They’d been joined by a few smaller groups that had assaulted our position from different directions. Either they were being sent out at random or maybe there was somebody with a semblance or overarching control directing the zealots.

“We’ve got another incoming! Down from the overpass. I’ve spotted one but there could be more,” one of the lookouts called back to us.

Quickly we readied ourselves for another fight and I hurried over to that side of our position.

“Belay that,” I yelled out recognising the approaching figure. “It’s one of ours.”