Touch Of Fate 132 Stolen Thunder

The man easily deflected the bowl, but was momentarily blinded by the vegetable soup it contained. During that brief opening, Brenden flashed by, neatly decapitating her attacker before moving on to other enemies.

She took a moment to catch her breath, deeply regretting coming to this event in heels. Taking the elaborate shoes off would have taken too much time, so she was forced to fight with them on.

[I'm never wearing heels again! I don't care how good they make my legs look. Bah! I can't believe how much time I spent working on my archery, and here I am fighting with a bunch of a.s.sa.s.sins, armed only with soup.]

When the mists had finally cleared, Sera's table, being near the back, almost immediately came under attack from the traitorous servers. Despite an earthen barricade that Mike apparently summoned before running off somewhere, they were quickly getting overrun. Too many of the students nearby were unable to put up a decent resistance, since it seemed like the majority of the Martial Arts Department had decided to sit near the front of the gathering.

[At the very least, they should be able to protect our backs.]

On the other hand, this meant that their defense force was composed of a handful of teachers, a smattering of students and bodyguards with some martial training, a couple of mages, and Sera's group.

Luckily, they seemed up to the task. Aine was proving to be a fairly competent Fire Mage, and had been skillfully picking off individual enemies. Rebecca had been concentrating more on defense and support, protecting her friend, while using snaking tendrils of water to throw the servers off balance at just the right moment. Edgar, on the other hand, had been looking around wildly, unsure of what he should be doing.

Since Tal had been forced to defend against the aerial attacks, Brenden was providing the lion's share of the defense. He was moving so quickly, and killing with such efficiency, it looked like he was everywhere at once. However, Sera could tell that he was slowing down, getting tired.

[We can't keep this up much longer.]

Screams sounded throughout the area, as a wave of strange, dark energy swept through the fighting. Sera felt an instinctive revulsion as the wave pa.s.sed through her, leaving her skin crawling as if it was coated by insects. Beyond that, there didn't seem to be any other effects.

"What was that-" She started asking Tal, who was standing nearby, still focused on the group of chimeras circling above. She was interrupted, however, by something grabbing her leg and pulling, sending her sprawling.

Looking back, she was horrified to realize it was the body of the man Brenden had just decapitated. The corpse had locked its fingers around one of her legs, and was pulling her closer.

"Necromancy!" Someone yelled from nearby, as similar horrified screams arose from other parts of the fighting.

Sera struggled against the iron grip of the zombie, but to no avail. She wasn't strong enough to shake herself loose, and was forced to watch as it pulled her into range of its sword, which was poised to strike.

Just before the zombie brought its arm down, it froze. With an audible creak, it relaxed its fingers, allowing her to escape. Sera pushed herself away from the moving corpse before standing back up with a wince. Her ankle would likely have a hand-shaped bruise for the next few days, at least until she could pester Mike into healing it.

She was trying to figure out what was going on with the zombie, when Edgar stepped up beside her. He had his hand outstretched, a look of concentration on his face. He gestured at the corpse, causing it to stand. Whirling, the zombie then threw itself at the ma.s.s of enemies still fighting.

"You can control them?" Sera asked with slight trepidation.

"Some of them, if I focus." He replied sheepishly.

"How many?"

He paused to consider. "Maybe twenty?"

"Good. Do that. Keep the enemy occupied, and I'll work on getting us some support."

Sera looked behind her, at the milling ma.s.s of noncombatants who had taken shelter behind turned over tables. Seeing their staring, fearful faces made her furious. If they wanted to survive the next few minutes, they'd better do something to help. However, it looked like the Headmaster's message had not inspired them to act. They would need some impetus.

Grumbling to herself, she carefully climbed onto a chair, and from there stepped onto one of the few tables that remained upright. She faced the cowardly group that was cringing behind their makes.h.i.+ft barriers.

"Braze citizens of Almir! Students of the University! Hear me!" She yelled above the clamor and noise of the battlefield. "I know you are frightened, that this cowardly and unjustified a.s.sault has thrown you into confusion, but we cannot give in to fear. Look around you. We are surrounded by an enemy that wishes our destruction. One who is desperate enough to animate their fallen comrades with Necromancy, in order to continue the fight."

A group of a.s.sa.s.sins pushed past Edgar's controlled horde, and ran towards the table Sera was standing on. She didn't spare them a glance, knowing that to falter now would ruin the effect. Trusting her comrades to see her through, she continued her speech.

"But we cannot give up. To surrender is to die." Sera paused dramatically, and was relieved to hear the sounds of combat behind her, as Tal and Brenden moved to intercept the group seeking to silence her.

"So, rise up! Fight! Teach these cowards the strength of our people! Know that every second you earn through your valor, is one second closer towards victory. Powerful allies are on their way here, as we speak. But we must hold out till then. So, rise and defend yourselves!"

Silence pervaded the area, and for a second Sera was afraid that her message had fallen on deaf ears. But then a female student, wearing a tattered dress, stepped out from behind her makes.h.i.+ft barricade. Hefting a broken chair leg, she took a deep breath and raised her improvised weapon into the air before charging the enemy with a battle cry on her lips.

Like water through a broken dam, the rest of the student body followed suit, grabbing whatever was available to them and throwing themselves into battle with reckless abandon.

Sera felt a surge of bittersweet pride. Her words had inspired them to action. Even if she wasn't individually strong, she could make a difference in this battle. Grabbing a pair of dinner knives, she got ready to charge the enemy herself, when everything changed again.

A roar, reverberating to the very marrow of her bones, split the sky, momentarily bringing the combat to a halt.

Sera watched, open mouthed as a flame dragon, of all things, destroyed the remaining chimeras with contemptuous ease. As soon as it had done so, the remaining zombies dropped to the ground, dead once more. Clearly the necromancer had been among the chimera's riders.

The spell was broken, when the dragon left to chase after the airs.h.i.+p, which had taken off in the confusion. Guessing that the legendary creature was on their side, the students' morale surged. With a deafening cheer, they once again threw themselves against their enemies, who in turn started fleeing, evidently demoralized by the easy defeat of their trump card. Within minutes, combat had effectively ceased.

Surrounded by relieved and victorious cheers, Sera couldn't help but feel cheated. Her bright and s.h.i.+ning moment had been overshadowed by a preposterous turn of events. Although she had no proof, her gut told her that Mike was to blame. After all, when the improbable occurs, he's usually in the thick of it. Besides, considering Audra, it wouldn't have been a stretch from him to have befriended a true dragon somehow.

She sighed and moved to join the rest of her friends. At least things seemed to have calmed down now.

Sera gasped as a stabbing pain shot through her head. An image took form in her mind.

Mike was standing in a moonlit field of white flowers, hair rustling in the breeze. He looked older, more mature, and was dressed in an exquisite black tunic. He smiled and offered a hand to someone sitting on the ground. She couldn't make out the figure, but the expression on Mike's face caused her heart to skip a beat. It was filled with a warmth and tenderness that she had never seen from him before. It was an expression of love.

Just as slender, feminine arm reached out to accept Mike's offered hand, the vision ended, leaving her gasping on her knees.

[What was that about? And really? This is the vision you wanted me to see, after all this time? Not something about that n.o.ble idiot, or the attack we just barely survived, but one about Mike on some kind of romantic getaway?]

Grumbling to herself, she fought her way back onto her feet. In the depths of her anger at her abilities, she noticed an ache in her chest, which she couldn't quite describe.

She resolved to blame this on Mike as well, since it was surely his fault too.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Landing on the deck of the s.h.i.+p, Mike resolved once again to get Red some kind of saddle. If riding the dragon was difficult before, trying to avoid being blown off in the middle of combat had been another thing entirely.

Still distracted by the fireworks, the soldiers on the deck of the airs.h.i.+p were sitting ducks, as Mike began to scythe through them with ruthless efficiency. He was able to bring down three before they knew what was happening.

This was stopped by a short haired woman wearing heavy plate armor. Moving with a speed that that was astounding, she launched a series of devastating strikes with her mace that Mike was forced to defend against. Eventually, he caught a small opening in her attack routine, and was able to deliver a kick to her solar plexus.

Unfortunately, this merely forced her back against the railing of the airs.h.i.+p. Even her armor remained unblemished by the blow, which would have been sufficient to crush a boulder. After regaining her balance, she moved in front of an aristocratic looking man who was standing next to the captured princess.

Taking a moment to survey the situation, Mike determined that he was surrounded by eight soldiers, who were warily maintaining a rough perimeter. Although they weren't particularly dangerous to him, they could distract him from the real threat.

"What is this? A fairy tale? The heroic knight conquers all odds to save the captured princess from the clutches of the villain?" The aristocratic man growled mockingly. His face was twisted into an angry mask.

It seemed that the man wanted to engage in banter. Mike decided to play along, hoping to give his mana time to regenerate. He mentally messaged Red to keep his distance for now. When the time was right, he would act.

"My lord, he's strong." The armored woman spoke in calm, but worried tones.

"Can you take him?" Came the whispered reply.

The woman looked Mike over, appraisingly, then shook her head slightly.

Gritting his teeth, the lord calmed himself visibly. "You are not a member of the royal guard, nor a servant of the crown. Judging from your frame you're still quite young....a student perhaps? Or maybe a bodyguard in service to some n.o.ble."

Andrea laughed at his guesses, "You are a fool, Wendel. You stand before a living legend. Surrender now, and your death will be quick."

[...That's quite a haughty att.i.tude for a hostage. Although, I suppose its part of being a member of the royal family.]

He used Appraise on the aristocrat.

------------------------------------

Wendel Authinel

Age: 37

Cla.s.s: Binder

t.i.tle: Mastermind

-----------------------------------

[Yep. Cla.s.sic villain.]

The man called Wendel, frowned down at the princess. "I refuse to believe that a real Dragonknight has seen fit to expose himself like this, just to save the descendant of the king that betrayed his order. But enough of this." He s.h.i.+fted his gaze to Mike, "You have been awfully silent. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Mike took measure of his mana reserves, and felt he had a sufficient amount for the next step. Summoning a portion of his strength, he channeled it into his limbs, causing a glowing nimbus of fire to coat his form.

"My ident.i.ty is not important. I take action because I choose to. Nothing more." He settled into the Roaring Flame stance.

The armored woman started, and ran forward while yelling. "Get back, my lord!"

Almost as if her cry was a signal, the remaining soldiers attacked as one. Sinking a further portion of mana into his stance, he held his sword in the low ready, and coated it with a layer of flame. With blinding speed, he whipped the weapon in a circle around himself, a phantom lash of fire following the swing.

Taking two steps in rapid succession, he moved past the bisected bodies of the soldiers as they were in the process of falling to the ground.

The armored woman stepped up to stop him, bringing her mace up to block, but proved unable to withstand his enhanced strength. She was sent flying, leaving nothing between him and the aristocrat, or so he thought. A cloud of dark mist appeared in front of him, condensing into a vicious maw.

Mike dodged to the left, dispersing the cloud with a hasty swing. However, it started reforming almost immediately. Nevertheless, he path was now clear.

"Regardless of your ident.i.ty, it seems you have bested me." Wendel laughed as he grabbed Andrea by her bonds, "This particular prize is no longer worth the cost, so I'll let you have it."

With a flick of his arm he threw the woman over the side. She only had time for a brief, "Huh?" before she vanished from sight. A scream followed soon afterwards.

Mike sighed internally, this was becoming increasingly troublesome. Dropping his enhancement, he launched himself overboard with a burst of Air Magic. He needed to move quickly to catch up.