Chapter 48 – The Price of Failure
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As the sun began to dip below the western horizon, the quiet Agelian-Bernish camp came alive, growing more raucous with each passing moment. Soldiers poured out of the thousands of tents within the camp, groggily shambling to grab a bite to eat before the army set out for the night raid.

Inside his tent, Damian Verac stood idle, arms outstretched to his sides, as servants carefully strapped various pieces of intricately crafted plate armor to his body.

With every piece placed upon him, the pale silvery metal took on a subtle blue hue as the adamantite armor became saturated with Damian's mana, rendering the beautiful murals etched into the metal that displayed Minaan's victory over the false gods to grow ever more apparent and defined.

As the sound of a soldier's gait reached his ears, Damian glanced over his shoulder to find a young woman clad in armor entering the tent behind him.

"What is it now, Livi? If those damned Bernish lords ask for another meeting, I swear I'll take my men and go home. All they do is complain without end. Minaan knows I've suffered them enough." Damian whined as the last of his armor was attached.

Livi chuckled. "You mustn't. It's been much too fun watching you squirm under their incessant attempts at gleaning information. Where else might I have opportunity to see you so restrained?"

Damian groaned and glanced at the now idle servants humbly bowing at his sides. "Leave us."

The servants quickly scurried outside, and once they were alone, Damian closed the distance between them in a flash, pulling Livi into his embrace.

Damian lovingly grabbed the side of her face and stared into her emerald-like eyes with a boyish smile. "What kind of house guard finds pleasure in their lord's anguish?"

"Hmm. I don't know?" A crooked smile crept across Livi's lips as she leaned closer and whispered into his ear. "What kind of lord finds pleasure between their house guard's thighs?"

"A helplessly foolish one, I imagine." Damian laughed before leaning in for a kiss.

"None of that." Livi held up her index finger, pressing it to Damian's lips to stop him. "I've come with news. So don't get yourself all worked up after the servants spent all that time dressing you in your fancy armor."

Damian was unable to refute and backed off sullenly. "What is it now?"

"Our eastern scouts are late for check-in." Livi replied as she casually leaned against a desk and crossed her arms.

Damian's eyebrow rose. "How late?"

"They were meant to check in half an hour ago and confirm the location of the Ollerinian camp."

"That's not so late to cause alarm, but I'd rather play it safe. We'll send out another group of scouts for now." Damian declared. "Are the men ready to march?"

"They'll be ready by sundown." Livi reported. "Also, Countess Puck asked me to inform you that she doesn't intend to join the raid. She said that she gave Marquis Kallik command over her levies for the time being."

"Thank Minaan! One less interrogator chipping away at my sanity. If only the others were as lazy and willful as she." Damian grabbed his cloak from a nearby chair and latched it to his armor before making his way to the tent's exit.

Livi chuckled as she followed from behind. "Remind me. What's that idiom about pots and kettles? I swear, I've seemed to have forgotten it entirely."

"I take offense to that, dear lady. My laziness is expressed purely through verbal means, while my actions remain dutiful. When I'm required to I..." Damian's words trailed off as he caught sight of a flickering spark above the row of tents before him.

His face distorted as his mind rapidly searched for an answer to explain such a phenomenon. Yet before he could reach a logical conclusion, his surroundings began to illuminate as if the sun had suddenly reversed its descent and retaken its position above the camp.

Damian glanced up to find the source of the light, only to fall into despair as an uncountable number of fireballs filled his vision. He no longer searched for answers and turned, pulling Livi into his embrace as the crackling spark behind him bloomed.

The explosive shockwave crashed into Damian's back as he lifted Livi up and attempted to jump away, sending the pair tumbling back into his tent. Damian quickly recovered and threw his body over Livi's as the volatile flames flooded inside, scorching everything in its path.

Damian held his breath and tightened his embrace over her as the inferno encircled them, but the raging flames rarely grew closer than arm's length.

Once the initial explosion dissipated, Damian examined Livi beneath him before helping her up and making his way toward the entrance. "We need to leave. Now. Do not leave my side."

"I know what you're thinking, Damian, but you can't leave your men behind." Livi hurriedly followed as a portion of the smoldering tent collapsed behind them. "The Bernish lords and their levies are expendable, but if you leave behind your own men and flee, you will never recover from it. You'll lose the king's favor, and everything you've worked for will vanish."

Damian clenched his fists and shouted in frustration. "I'm well aware of the stakes! But, we cannot hold out in an open battle against the Ollerinians with only twenty thousand men. This battle is a lost cause. I'll do what I can, but you and I will not be dying here today. If it's a choice between them and us, then it's no choice at all."

Damian calmed himself before drawing his sword and cutting through a section of the tent that wasn't burning. Then, he peeked outside to witness the camp in chaos as fireballs periodically rained from the ridgeline overlooking the encampment.

Agonized screams and panicked shouts filled the air in between thunderous explosions as men scrambled about without direction. Within the chaos, Damian spotted his lieutenant Ivan leading a group of mounted soldiers toward his tent, so he stepped out while keeping an eye on the ridgeline above.

"Thank Minaan you're alright!" Ivan shouted as he hopped off his mount to address Damian. "The Ollerinians are quickly encircling the camp from either side. Marquis Kallik has rallied his men and is engaging the enemy to the south while Earl Gabon and Earl Terris fight in the north."

Damian nodded. "Good, rally the men and find them all mounts. I want them ready to move in a quarter hour."

Puzzled, Ivan tilted his head. "Even the infantry, lord?"

"Yes, gather all the mounts you can find. If the Bernish lords give you trouble, tell them that we intend to ride out and flank the Ollerinians. However, in a quarter hour's time, I expect every Agelian man to be on a mount, even if they have to double up. Do you understand?"

Ivan threw away his confusion and bowed. "Yes, lord."

"And have someone bring me my drake." Damian added as Ivan climbed atop his mount.

Livi gazed at the ridge overlooking the camp as Agelian, and Bernish mages began to fire their own spells toward it, easing the pressure felt by all those below. "The Ollerinians should have a ninth circle mage within their ranks, but unless they ordered a ninth circle to sling fireballs, I don't see one up there."

Damian turned and focused on the ridgeline. Nearly five hundred mages crested the hill, and now that the initial volleys had been fired, they no longer only shot fireballs and explosion spells. Instead, many seemed to switch to defensive spells to counter the returning fire while others shot out a variety of attack spells.

"It'd be far too convenient for the ninth circle to miss this battle—" Damian raised his hand above his head as he instantly summoned a cloud of pitch-black mist that appeared without a magic circle. It swallowed up the lightning bolt that had been hurdling toward him like a hungry beast, leaving nothing of the magic behind.

"—It's more likely we'll meet the ninth circle when we flee west." Damian continued as he lowered his hand, causing the black mist to fade out of existence.

"You think they left the west open on purpose?" Livi asked after summoning a pitch-black cloud of her own to block another attack.

"The Ollerinians aren't stupid. They're just overconfident after centuries of uncontrolled growth. Trapping us here gives them a total victory, but it forces us into a life-or-death battle where they'll see heavy losses...

I count five hundred or so mages on the ridge. Even if they had a shortage of talents, there should still be at least two thousand within a force sixty thousand strong. I reckon we'll meet them soon enough."

As Damian spoke, two soldiers riding tufts appeared behind a burning tent, tugging on long metallic chains. A bestial roar echoed through the camp as the nine-foot-tall pale-white behemoth of a drake came into view. He glanced to the ridgeline and readied himself to defend against any enemy mages who attacked in response to Ru'un's roar.

Yet, no magic flew his way, and Damian scoffed at the lack of action. "They're so confident in themselves they refuse to injure a valuable drake as if they already consider it their property."

"Lord Duke, the men are gathering at the western edge of the camp awaiting your orders." One of the tuft riders called out as they grew near.

Damian nodded before he and Livi climbed up the retractable rope ladder that hung from Ru'un's saddle. Once they were situated, he retracted the ladder and yanked on Ru'un's reins causing the snarling behemoth to dash forward, ignoring anything in its path.

The added height gave Damian a view into just how much damage the Ollerinian surprise attack had wrought. The sun had already faded below the horizon, yet the camp was bright with smoldering flames in every direction. Another wave of frustration burned within him as he squeezed the rough leather reins to the point of bleeding.

Livi noticed his discontent and embraced him from behind. "You needn't worry before the verdicts been granted, my love. As long as we keep our casualties to a minimum in the retreat, it will only be a minor setback."

Damian remained silent, but Livi's words had steeled his resolve. With most of the mages on the ridgeline contained by the Bernish mages on the ground, only a few spells sporadically landed around him as he pushed onwards west.

Ru'un leaped over a burning tent, and as he landed, nearly four thousand mounted men came into view before him. Damian looked them over as Ivan rode near.

"There's still over eight hundred unaccounted for, lord Duke, but most here have a mount of their own." Ivan announced.

Damian nodded and confirmed he had the attention of his men. "Everyone without a mount, get onto the back of another's! We ride west for the Bernish city of Leighbury! Once we leave the encampment, there is a high possibility that we'll be ambushed, so ride with anti-magic distancing to minimize casualties!

If we do encounter resistance, you are to flee in all directions! I repeat, do not fight! Our goal is to survive and reach Leighbury! Minaan is with us! Do not let me down! And do not let Minaan down by dying a worthless death!"

The crowd, four thousand strong, shouted out in unison. "Yes, Duke!"

Damian turned and handed the reins to a puzzled Livi before switching places with her. "You're not thinking of using it, are you?"

"There's no other way if the Ollerinians are waiting for us. You said it yourself, I can't afford to take unnecessary casualties. So I'll need you to watch over me for a while, my love."

Livi went quiet as Ru'un made his way to the front of the crowd, but she could only hold her tongue for so long. "I'll invoke the shadow—"

"—Stop. If you so much as attempt it, I'll plunge my sword into my heart before you can finish the words. My soul can survive the price of invocation, but yours cannot. I won't allow you to sacrifice yourself for my failures." Damian declared, leaving no room for negotiation.

As Ru'un picked up his pace and left the confines of the encampment, the four thousand mounted soldiers fanned out behind him. A sense of relief washed over Damian as the path before them remained clear.

However, as Ru'un crested a small hill, a well-kept old man sitting atop a drake came into view under the full moon's light. Without any introductions, Damian instinctively knew that the old man before him was the Ollerinian ninth circle mage he had feared encountering.

 

 

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