Chapter 8.4 - They are Legion

It took no more than 10 minutes for the breach in Haven to be discovered, as even now, creatures, 'blood summons' were crawling out, only to be put down by the arriving City Guard. The City Guard, who's job was to keep the peace, and usually the most dangerous thing they hunted was an errant totem summon.

They would be without backup. The QRF would take almost an hour to mobilize, The fast attack fleet of the nave, a few hours. The standing army, days. The Dragons were not built for the tight corridors of the pseudo Urban Capital.

The battlefield was being recorded by watcher homunculi, who relayed this information through a visual network into a single display.

The War Council had retreated to the Mountain, deep within was the strategic command center, built for just such an event. Serin wished to fight, but his council flat out refused him "You are our Sovereign, and as long as there is no heir, your place is no longer on the frontlines."

Serin could not help it. He wanted to fight, but he understood. "The blood summons, dispatch them as quickly as possible. Evacuate all non combatants out of the Capital region. Create three levels of perimeter surrounding the breach, and train the artillery cannons on the opening, high yield rounds. If they break past the last line, fire all rounds, including the Donnerschlag"

"That will destroy the capital!"

"Then we better not lose." Serin looked at the streets. "They know they are entering through to a portal into an urban environment. Send in a Battalion of the Sobaka Voyny. Ensure that they collar any they incapacitate and detain them."

"The losses could be great."

"Then they better fight well. Detaining as many of their soldiers is the key to our victory. As for the Sobaka Battalion, it is their purpose by pact. Two were conscripted so one could live free, and to not let them fulfill their destiny would bring dishonor to their existence."

***

Within 20 minutes, the cracks in the ground of the assembly hall shifted and the blood summons that were crawling out increased in number. Then the assembly hall itself began to crack, and a symmetrical circle was split from the building and pulled into the vortex of blood and magic, in it's place a gate stood against the ground. Knowing the less than ideal battlefield and thinking quickly, The captain of the guard ordered the collapsing of several buildings, causing the assembly hall to only have three avenues of egress. The enemies, even now, were starting to outnumber the guards.

The first line, the City Guard. The Old Guard. They were not frontline Soldiers, they were keepers of the peace. But here they stood. They might not have chosen to meet the enemy vanguard, but that was what they would do. They were a multicultural group of Haven's City Guard, trained in conflict resolution. They were not the expert killing teams of the protectorate. Those troops were still hours out. They wouldn't arrive yet. It was up to these several hundred fighters to hold off the enemy until help arrived.

As the situation began to look grim, and more enemy began to crawl out, falling to expert marksmanship, at the primary avenue of egress stood a Skygge. He was one of the true Old Guard. One of those who had come through the gates. He was the terror of Dragonkin. He was a hero. When his booming voice echoed, it was heard by enemy and ally alike. Hefting his rifle-axe into the air, his armor carrying the designation of [Peacekeeper 06], he called out to his fellow guardsmen.

"Brothers and Sisters Rejoice! We, who were destined to sit out the great crusade of our generation have been given us a chance at glory by our most generous opponent by gracing us with their unholy presence.

Rejoice, Retribution is at hand! Its vengeful dirge shall guide the fury of our swords and the rapport of our rifles! We will not forsake our duty, because who are we?!"

"The guardsman of Haven!"

"We must hold until the second ring is in position, fight until you can fight no more, and ensure you die by your own hand! When the red flare passes over the sky, retreat, but until then, fight for your lives, because our enemy gives no quarter, and they shall receive none!"

The soldiers began a Skygge Chant, A battle hymn taught to them for warriors expected to die. All of the Captain's subordinates had been taught this song.

Suddenly out of nowhere a Lybringer mage appeared next to the Skygge. "Lark, you know we have no second chance. We don't have the ability to be brought back." The Skygge smiled as the first soldiers of the enemy force began pouring out of the gate. "Then you best protect me, my love."

***

From the watcher's perspective, it looked less like a battle, and more like a dyke attempting to hold back the rising floodwaters.

Less than a thousand city guard stood encircling the Assembly hall, and as troops began to pour out, magic met magic, weapon met weapon.

The War Council stood shocked. The enemy did not relent, and poured forward, slipping over the bloody bodies of those that had rushed forward moments earlier. It was water turning to steam when thrown into a hot pan. But the council knew it would not last. Eventually, enough water filling a pan would not steam, it would lower the temperature of the pan until the water filled, and overflowed, putting out the fire.

These thoughts were not lost on the Guard, as they were rapidly losing ground. Their shots may have all hit their mark, but there were too many targets.

Magic being thrown against their enemy was being shaken off. Intermediate spells were not powerful enough to force its way through the famed magic resistance of the Inquisitors of the GWA, now the grand Heralds of Mephystra.

Then it happened, Lark saw as what must have been a more powerful caster, maybe an officer of these shock troops, fire a dart of flame and blood at him. Lark had ducked under his barricade and the round had missed him entirely. It had missed him, but had shot through the young changeling girl behind him. It had passed through her armor, and killed her instantly. Lelu. He knew Lelu's mother. They were old friends. He had seen her first steps. He had approved her entry into the city guard. He watched as her body burned away. He knew the words that were said. 'Those burned away by Mephystra's flame could not be brought back.'

How would he tell Alika, Lelu's mother, that he had failed to protect her eldest daughter, who had not even had younglings of her own?

[This funnels are working, but we won't last much longer] Lark said to Sophia. She strained to look at him. He could tell. His [Master Repose] kept his emotions in check, but it was still straining Sophia.

This was a losing battle.

***

It had been no more than 30 minutes of fighting. The city guard was out of ammo. The bodies of both sides were laying strewn about, and although the vast majority belonged to the Cult, their numbers almost none remaining. Lark watched as the only other surviving troop on his entrance received a mortal wound, and following direction, took his own life. Lark saw and heard an explosion. Then another. They were the other two avenues. These explosives were a last act to slow the advancing enemy, craterizing the street and making it difficult terrain. It also told Lark, that he alone remained, he stood, batting away the blood magic with Sophia flicking in and out of existence, using her magic to throw stone instead of magic, which failed against these troops.

He was covered in gashes, burns, and at this point his left eye was unusable. Sophia had removed her limiters on his emotions, letting his rage seep through. There was no chance of collateral damage, and they only needed to hold out.

They had. But it was near the end. Sophia could feel his exhaustion, and should he lose consciousness, she would have to do the unthinkable. And that time had come. A high inquisitor fired a round through his own troop, and its surprise trajectory made it unable to be countered correctly. It did not strike lark's chest but sliced cleanly though his leg, cauterizing it with its flame.

Lark had just lost his maneuverability, and now was a heap of flesh to be evicerated. Sophia cried a tear as she put the blocks on Lark's stronger emotions. As he came back to his senses, an overwhelming enemy coming closer he readied the ruby explosives he had strapped to his chest. Sophia held him in her arms.

"So this is how it ends, my Love?" Lark said.

As Lark began to pull the pin matrix, Sophia stopped him. A shrill whistle was heard overhead, and like the rising of the first spring morning to chase away the cold winter, a flare shot up over the sky.

Sophia smiled, "I wouldn't know, as this is not our end." She then summoned a [gate] and pushed him through. The [gate] slamming shut behind him, leaving behind only twelve ruby explosives, pins pulled.

A third and final crater formed, taking with it the bodies of the fallen on both sides. The troops had amassed, and it was not just ground troops. Mutated humans, growths of wings, claws, jaws, flew out of the portal. Masses of flesh came out between the thousands of troops coming through, an the War Council watching stood silent as a massive hand came through and began pulling the body of something thoroughly abominable out of the bloody [gate].

***