(14.3) Phoebe's Defence

The Dead screech and cry out as they charge, matched only by the battlecries of the manor's defenders and evacuated civilians' panicked yells.

"Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic." Phoebe tightens her grip on her staff and looks around for where she can use her magic best.

The Blade of Light crashes down, eliminating the brilliant glow from the flaming, cloudy landscape, turning it back to the dark scene it is.

The colossal Dead swings its blade, scattering spells and knocking away its attackers and steps closer to the manor.

Phoebe grabs her staff closer to the top and swings it down, making the lower end press against her shoulder as she rapidly condenses mana at its tip.

"Clear away!" She barely has time to shout a warning as her mana completely condenses. "Fall to your end, Tectonic Tear!"

She slashes her staff in front of her and the space immediately in front of the manor's protectors splits in two.

The ground quakes as the cliffside is forcibly pulled backwards from Phoebe's spell, causing many Dead to lose their balance and fall. Even the colossal one isn't immune from suddenly going into a 45 degree angle and having its ground pushed away by several dozen metres.

The manor guards and other defenders help each other get away from the newly created edge and stare in awe. Magic is incredible and can do astounding things but witnessing a single mage rip away a chunk of earth in a 50 metre diameter and the entire 250 metre height is beyond what anyone expected. Especially not from a mage that can only hold her staff with one hand.

Still, their cheer is short lived as more calls for aid spur them to keep moving. All they can offer is a few words of praise before returning their focus to defence.

"Shit… that used more MP than I expected…" Phoebe stabilises herself on her staff, breathing heavily from the exertion. "If this were a game, I'd only have to worry about HP and MP but my body is killing me! There has to be a better way."

Her eyes flick to the left, humourless at how the status bar does not reflect her mental fatigue.

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LE: 250/300 HP: 20,000/25,000 

MP: 22,000/30,000

SP: 4,500

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Phoebe sees a rogue spell explode like a firework just beneath the information.

"I got it!"

She kicks up her staff and runs back into the manor, ignoring the people calling out to her, offering a vague reassurance everything would be okay as she zips past them.

Phoebe slams her staff against the ground as she runs at regular intervals, using magic to send and receive vibrations to create a rough map in her mind to guide her to the centre of the manor.

It doesn't take long to reach an open air garden, its beauty dimmed by the dark clouds and the blazing fires lighting the greys from below.

She flinches as a pillar of fire erupts outside. By the sounds of it, it's a misfired spell. Phoebe's breath hitches and she almost freezes in place.

"Focus!" She shouts at herself.

Voices call out but to whom she isn't sure. Phoebe slams her staff down and a small circle cuts itself beneath her feet and catapults upward, the disk serving as a small floating platform taking her far above the manor.

Here in the sky, Phoebe can see the entirety of the manor grounds below, the encompassing Star Sea around it, and the forest outside New Pinacca to the right.

Phoebe takes a deep breath and spins her staff in a wide arc, sending out golden light interspersed by glittering diamond-shaped magic stones.

It was often a symbol alerting other players in raids that she was going to do an AOE attack so they should mind the screen to prevent getting waylaid by flashing lights. Phoebe could only hope that here in the world of Tsarjar, people had a similar type of forewarning.

"Terra, heed my command." Phoebe begins chanting. "Terra, bend to my will. Become the shield of the land before me and expunge those that would do its people harm… Protection of Gaea!!"

A pillar of mana expands from her staff, sending out waves of brilliant ochre light that strikes the manor grounds and pulses outward. The ground ripples violently in response below all those Phoebe deemed a foe and forcibly pushes them back.

While the light deals no harm to the Dead because of their incredibly high magic resistance, the shifting land continues its reliability and catapults the invading Dead off the manor's lands.

All at once, the attacking enemies have been banished but the spell still hasn't ended. Once the expanding light strikes the edge of the designated area, gigantic stone walls erupt from below, encasing the manor grounds and the land bridge leading to it in a protective shell.

Now, any more assaults will be forced to come from the only entrance to the manor, making it easier for the defenders to protect any more fleeing residents and protect themselves, lightening the burden on those still within the city.

The earth disk serving as her platform shudders and begins to break apart as Phoebe feels her body ache from the exertion. It starts to sink slowly, then faster before finally breaking apart, leaving her to come crashing down.

Phoebe's breath hitches, the thought of dying spurring her mind into overdrive. She's several hundred metres in the air and falling fast. It's only a matter of seconds before she hits the ground. Her mind races with spells and items, becoming more panicked as she blanks on everything.

"Cushion, cushion, cushion!" Her eyes snap open as she remembers a novelty emote her class acquires early on and hopes it works. "Earth Mold!"

Just as she's about to hit the ground, the spell manifests and the ground allows her to sink into it, letting her go deeper as it strips away her momentum and lets her bounce out of the lethal impact.

Still in the air, it takes another two Earth Molds before she comes to a rolling stop none too worse for wear.

"Ow…" she rubs her back with her stump arm and uses her staff to rise to her feet.

Manor guards and some nurses are already rushing to meet her and administer first aid but she shakes them off, only accepting the mana potions a guardsman offers.

I… I have to go out there. My spell should hold until its all over but I need to get to my friends." Phoebe tells them.

"Oh but dearie," begins one of the nurses, a canis judging by his wolfish ears and tail.

"Understood miss." Interrupts one of the manor guards, he's fully armoured but there's a slight hiss to his speech. "Then take these and may the Chronicler's favour guide your spells."

He begins to hand several more mana potions tied together with rope to Phoebe before deciding against it and instead loosely tying them to her arm instead.

Phoebe nods in appreciation, finishing off the mana potions from the other guard and hurriedly departs.

Even though her muscles feel stiff, begging her to stop. To turn away. Even though she can feel her heart racing, its beating loud enough to be heard by all those around her. Phoebe keeps walking, turning into a jog and then a sprint as she enters the newly magically enclosed bridge into the city.

"I'm sorry for acting like such a coward, guys. I'm coming."