Mighty in Battle
1202 Words
Chaos hit the Church of Sur in a blinding wave. The desperate screams of the loyalists mixed with the fanatical war cries of the Redeemers.
“They are coming for the priest, save the priest!” someone shrieked, instantly focusing the Lord's attention on the target. The priest was the key to the Church of Sur’s legitimacy; his capture or death would hand the city straight to the Redeemers.
Amid the mounting noise, a quiet chime resonated only in the Lord’s mind:
[Mission: Unplanned Battle]
[Unplanned Battle: The Redeemers have launched a surprise attack on the Church of Sur. You are caught between the battle and cannot escape. You must fight!]
[Note: Your actions during this mission will affect your main mission.]
[Rewards will be given when you complete the main mission.]
The Lord felt a cold thrill of excitement despite the critical debuff. “The system loves risk,” he mused. “It rewards me for leveraging chaos.”
Now to choose which side to fight for; a church desperate for a god to save them or a church desiring to take over one
The former is an easier target, the latter is a stronger one.
The lord will rather go for the latter. They are desperate, any act of god will and they'll be fawning on miracles like dogs on a bone
The middle-aged man who had just spoken to the Lord clawed frantically at his arm. “Hurry! They’ll s*******r us! We must hide!”
The Lord shook off the grip. “Hiding is pointless,” he said simply, his eyes fixed on the entrance. “I came here for a purpose. Now, that purpose finds me.”
He found a discarded, battered longsword, it was a standard-issue weapon for a low-ranking guard and gripped it. It felt light and swift, easy to wield, thanks to his A- Strength
The Redemption line was overwhelming the defense of the Sur loyalists. The loyalists who already have their morale down fought with brittle desperation, their Divinity barely enough to shield their skin. The Redeemers, however, were fueled by passion and anger.
One could see they wanted them dead.
Every scream and the life of a loyalists ending but they kept the line still
Until…
“Grrrrrr” A growl rumbled in the air
The Redeemed stopped all attacks and drew a distance away from the Sur loyalists. Some moved to the right, some to the left and soon, a path was cleared.
Walking down the path is something, bearing a grotesque head that seemed too large for its body, hands composed of flowing, orange magma, and eyes that spewed continuous sheets of fire.
“It's the devil”
“Reinforcement, send Reinforcement”
“Hold the line”
The Sur loyalists let out their scream but not their devotion as they slammed their shields together with a thunderous CLANG.
Wooden rounds locked edge-to-edge, forming a tight, impenetrable wall. Spears bristled through the gaps, the front line anchoring their boots into the earth while the second line pressed forward behind them.
Most Sur loyalists were Divine Descendants and could withstand the heat the devil was spewing, but the sheer force of the Devil…
It drew a broadsword, heavy, sharp, and hot enough to make the air shimmer and in a swoosh, five shields were down carved a path through the defenders.
“So they do have something they believe in,” the Lord observed, calculating the Devil’s movement pattern. “If they are willing to use this publicly, they probably have more, or something stronger they put their faith in”
The Devil roared, its voice shaking the pillars of the church. “I’m gonna kill you!” It pointed its devastating broadsword directly at the terrified Sur priest cowering near the altar.
The Lord knew he had to stop the Devil before it reached the priest
He slipped into the fray, moving like a desperate, highly trained general. The A- Agility forced him to rely on his newly trained Evasion (Advanced) skill. He dodged a wild swing from a panicking loyalist, testing the skill’s cooldown. “Fast enough, even when debuffed”
A Redeemed warrior, screaming in fanatic zeal, turned his attention to the Lord, raising a crude iron axe.
The Lord did not move to dodge. Instead, he forced a pulse of his A- Aura outwards, channeling the faint, terrifying weight of a true sovereign god.
[Aura Release: Target Authentication Started]
The warrior instantly froze, his eyes widening in terror, the fanatic light draining from his face.
[Divine Descendant: Failed Aura Authentication, Fear Induced]
The warrior dropped the axe, his mouth opening in a silent, horrified gasp. The Lord’s Aura, even at A-, was incompatible with the soul of a mere Divine Descendant who had no Divinity of his own to defend against the spiritual battle.
The Lord used the opportunity, his longsword finding a vital spot in the warrior's neck. A dull flash of light indicated the kill.
[Divine Descendant killed; 1,500 Points, 5 Skill Points awarded]
“Well this just got a lot more fun,” the Lord smirked looking at the army of divine descendant not as an army but as
“Power! Every single one of them must be killed by me”
Whether it was a s***h, or his Aura's [Fear] crippling the Redeemers before they reached him, The Lord was mighty in battle. He advanced into the thick of the battle and one by one, the Redeemers were being eliminated. The Redeemers, seeing their comrades down, screamed and began to retreat from the Lord's immediate area.
The priests, noticing the sudden counter-success, roared their rallying cry. “Look! A miracle! Sur has sent us a defender!” The loyalists, morale surging, fought back with renewed, albeit weak, ferocity.
The Devil, however, was not distracted by the lesser skirmishes. It roared, focusing its terrifying power on the lone, quiet figure with the plain longsword.
The Devil swung its massive, searing broadsword, aiming for the Lord’s exposed flank.
The Lord met the blow, the plain steel longsword clashing against the magma-hot metal.
BAM!
The impact was catastrophic. The longsword crumpled instantly into slag. The Lord’s A- Strength was useless against the Devil’s sheer power, and he was hurled backward, skidding across the stone floor and colliding with a ruined pillar.
Fire erupted instantly on the Devil’s hand, the magma heating to an unusual, agonizing white-hot intensity. The Lord, pinned by the crushing weight of the debuff, could feel the heat searing his face from thirty feet away.
The Devil strode forward, molten fire trailing from its blade, its voice a grating snarl. “You are not a warrior of the Golden God. You are a lamb to my blade! Die!”
The Lord struggled to rise, every muscle screaming under the heat.
“s**t” the Lord cursed when fire was sipping through the wall he was hiding behind and the wall was crashing down
“What to do now?” the Lord grinned
- Writer
