B3 Chapter 9: Assault and Battery

From atop the hill, Marcus had quite a decent vantage point as the battle unfolded. The marquis’s forces battered against the Legion neither their physical or magical assault able to make much discernable headway. But that didn't stop them from continuing the pressure.

He watched the mages continue to hurl spells toward the line of shields. Arcs of lightning rippled up and down the line while the ground before them alternately froze and burned to a crisp. Any semblance of grass had long since been vaporized by the assault.

A frown creased his brow. This assault was stretching on far longer than it had any right to. Either those mages were far beyond the level that he'd expected, or…

Marcus’s gaze was drawn to a particular patch of the landscape, just behind the mages. He couldn’t entirely explain why. It was as though an invisible finger was pointing it out, urging him to pay close attention to it. Even though there was absolutely nothing strange about—

His attention sharpened. With a conscious effort, he dispersed the insidious effect and focused. There, partially obscured behind the hill, stood a few small clusters of unarmed individuals. There were three per mage, their eyes glassy as they swayed gently in place.

His lips twisted in disgust at the practice. [Mana Batteries]. A powerful and incredibly useful class, if one was willing to sacrifice their own individual agency. Both it and other classes like it had been outlawed for a long time in the Novaran Kingdom, and for good reason.

While it was possible for others to contribute to mages using their own mana pool, doing so required a handful of skills that often hamstrung the person in other areas and made the effort not worth it. But [Mana Batteries]? They took that principle up to eleven.

They were practically walking vegetables whose sole purpose was to be wrung out by mages. With enough support, a mage could double, triple, or even quadruple their mana regeneration. And that wasn't even considering the additional mana pool available to them.

The fact that the Marquis was using these so openly was not a good sign. After all, it was exceedingly rare for anyone to willingly choose the [Mana Battery] class.

But if the Legion was hoping to outlast whatever attacks these mages could throw at them, they might be in for a rude awakening. There would be no end to these strikes anytime soon. Worse, the effect he’d just experienced made it clear that they had some sort of skill designed to divert attention away from them. If Marcus had hardly noticed them, the Legion likely didn’t stand a chance.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment and focused. Tenuous threads extended out from him in every direction. Most reached toward the Roman Legionnaires he could see on the battlefield ahead. Others reached back toward Hausten or Stonester or to other undefined points along the countryside.

Quickly, Marcus identified the closest one that was separate from the others. If they were moving alone, it would likely be a scout or messenger of some kind. Someone who would be able to carry word of the [Mana Batteries]

back to their commander. Otherwise, those mages would continue to make trouble.

He began running toward the Legionnaire, watching the battle as he moved. It appeared that whoever was in charge of the Marquis’s vanguard didn’t find the mages’ attacks enough. Several squads broke off, around eight in total, charging parallel to the Legion’s shield wall as they avoided the magical barrage.

One group in particular rallied around a cavalier in armor even heavier than the others. His horse was bedecked with similar protections, giving it the appearance of an armored castle on stilts rather than something meant to move with any kind of speed. But move they did.

They began to charge toward the formation of elves raining down arrows from one of the Legion's flanks. As soon as they were in range, more waves of deadly arrows arced skyward before descending onto the cavaliers’ heads.

The concentrated mass firing on the smaller groups should have been more effective. But this was what the army units had been trained for. Their shields were locked tightly together in some vague semblance of the Legion’s own tactics, albeit less precise. Arrows flew to either side without apparent reason as the men’s arrow deflection skills overlapped and amplified each other.

A few men fell, but only the ones responsible for support. The juggernauts at the front still continued forward unimpeded and protected by the rest of their group. Marcus stared hard at one, willing [Appraisal] to work at this distance. To his relief, it did. Unfortunately it revealed that the hulking armored figure chagrin forward was around level thirty.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. He was no tactician, but the elves’ shields didn’t seem built for taking a charge the same way the Roman Legion’s were. The slighter forest folk wore small, round shields built to be used with their bows, not form an impenetrable wall. Meaning they would need a miracle to not be broken through.

The elves began a staggered retreat, half of the force firing at the incoming attackers before running back and switching with the other half. The synchronization of their movements was hypnotic with its precision, and Marcus didn’t see a single elf panic and break formation.

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Still, they were on foot while being charged by mounted cavalry. And with the recent level reset, they didn’t have anywhere near the stats to keep ahead.

After what felt like a long time, the first Legion finally responded. Several cohorts split off from the end of the shield wall, shortening it and increasing the load on those defending against the magic barrage. As they marched, the entire force condensed into an airtight defensive formation that rather resembled a turtle. A turtle that inexplicably moved even faster than the horses they were moving to intercept.

A few mages tried to redirect and catch the moving Legionnaires unawares. They aimed for any perceived openings, looking to take advantage of momentary gaps in the formation. Yet their efforts were quickly nullified as a group of Legionnaires knelt and placed their hand on the ground. A wall of stone sprang up before them, dirt and stone sprayed in every direction as the spells hammered against the hastily-constructed fortification that the men were rapidly spreading mortar across.

Ironically, the wall lasted far less time than the Legion itself. But by the time the first spells broke through, the men it had been covering were long gone.

Another order was given, and the remaining wall of Legionnaires began to march forward. At the same time, a few groups of what Marcus recognized as Legion’s half-mages began their work.

The sky began to darken above, clouds swirling with ominous intent. Rain began to pour down from the heavens and onto the enemy forces. Over the course of a few seconds, the temperature dropped precipitously and solidified the rain into sharpened hail chunks the size of daggers.

The effect was immediate. The incoming barrage of magic faltered immediately as the mages were forced to seek cover and switch to protective spells. The other forces scrambled to protect them, deflecting the deadly hailstorm with raised shields and whatever scraps of clothing they could scrounge up. Throughout it all, the [Mana Batteries]

in their midst stood unmoving. Their empty expressions didn’t so much as twitch as they were sliced as though by a hurricane of razors, lacking the self-preservation required to seek safety.

A few of the mages tried to erect barriers to protect their precious fuel reserves from any incidental harm, but the damage had already been dealt. The slack-jawed [Mana Batteries] bled freely from dozens of cuts across their exposed skin. Healers hurried forward to restore them as quickly as they could and move the others to safety.

Marcus couldn’t help but gape. The Legion’s half-mages were still in training, only capable of casting a few spells provided to them by Claude’s disciples. If they could already bring power like this to bear… How strong would they be in a month or two? And what horrifying feats would the full mages be capable of?

Regardless, the spell had done its job. The marquis’s forces were on the back foot, and their cohesion was much worse for wear.

The mages and their protectors began pulling back in an effort to escape the hail. Yet the Legion continued their grim pursuit. Some even began whirling slings above their heads to add to the assault.

Marcus frowned. These were no standard sling stones being hurled forth. Nor were the men standard Legionnaires. Their armor was bedecked with macabre talismans of polished ivory that glistened in the light. Bones.

The bone projectiles whistled ominously through the air, emitting a keening sound like a dying man's last screech. Rather than striking the vanguard directly, they scattered before their feet and hemmed them in on either side.

A moment later, the bone shards erupted. A forest of pale spears lanced toward the vanguard. Their defenses, already stretched thin between the hail and preparing for the Legion to engage, weren't enough. A hundred men along the edge of the group fell in the first volley.

The marquis’s forces regrouped, shoring up their defenses to render the next round of bone lances less effective. But it slowed them down even further. The mobile shield wall of the Legion hastened forward to take advantage of the opening and strike.

A massive clash sounded across the way. Marcus turned his attention there as the first of the attack squads slammed into the shield wall that had moved to protect the elves.

To his surprise, the shield wall didn’t stop the charge in its tracks. It began to bend in the middle. He could practically hear the groan as the massive formation began to give and cave inward. But it managed to stop the charge. Several horses fell as they were stuck up against shields and spears or fell victim to the continued rain of arrows from the elves themselves—a cloud of deadly hail twin to the one the Legion had summoned.

It was only a few moments later that both Marcus and the enemy’s forces recognized the truth—the “failing” of the shield wall had been a feint.

The ends of the Legion’s formation curled around the marquis’s men as they pressed their “advantage” forward, encircling them totally. The elves halted their own retreat to split, circle, and surround the now trapped squads as well. Hundreds of elven arrows slammed into the groups with astonishing speed as the Legion pinned them in place. Slowly, they were being whittled down.

The tide of battle had clearly shifted. That much was clear to everyone. Every member of the vanguard that could retreat did, hurrying back in a disorganized group as they tried to outpace the storm and the Legion both. Even with the mages hastening everyone they could, it didn’t save them. The Romans remained right on their tails.

Marcus wondered for a moment why they hadn’t simply run the forces down when he saw it. Movement in the distance. From beyond a nearby ridgeline, a small company of a few hundred horses began their own charge down the gentle slope toward the flank of the retreating vanguard. The duke’s men.

The marquis’s men heard the thundering of hooves, but it was too late to turn and fully prepare. Nor could they stop, lest the Legion run them down themselves.

The duke’s cavalry slammed into them. Like an avalanche taking a village unawares, these riders smashed through the formation and began wreaking havoc among the vanguard.

Trampled and crushed, the vanguard began to rout. It was an unquestioned victory on all fronts. But the battle was far from over.

Marcus saw the Legionnaire he’d been pursuing appear in the distance. But that wasn’t the only thing he saw. There was another force as well. A much larger one, right on the heels of the first. And it was growing closer by the minute.

This had only been the vanguard, after all.