Overwhelming Firepower

Lucen looked at the incoming monsters and understood why it’s called a monster wave. The earth trembled beneath countless claws and hooves, the frozen river groaning as though it too recoiled.

The air carried the stench of iron and rot, thick enough to burn the throat. Above the horde, wings beat the air, black shapes circling like carrion before the slaughter even began.

The tusked trolls lumbered forward, their boulder-sized fists pounding the ground, each roar shaking snow from the cliffs.

Blue wyverns circled above, their wings tearing through the blizzard, their shrieks sharp enough to split stone. He also saw a Dire Wendigos among the ranks of the monsters. These monsters were pretty high-level.

The monster wave had a few that he recognized from the game, but among them surged nightmares the game had never shown him.

Great wolves ran with their hides half-peeled back, ribs gleaming through patches of fur, their jaws too wide, lined with teeth that never ended.

Insects the size of horses scuttled on ice-blackened carapaces, their many eyes glowing with cold fire, mandibles clicking in a rhythm that scraped at the ears.

Farther back, rising above the mass like jagged towers, were creatures that bent the rules of flesh. A horned giant whose arms dragged along the ground, each step leaving cracks in the ice.

A serpent with no eyes and many mouths all along its body, snapping and shrieking in a chorus of hunger.

The horde was a living nightmare, every shape more twisted than the last. Lucen’s hands tightened on his arquebus, his gut coiling tight.

He had already prepared his mind and imagined the worst possible image he could imagine, but seeing the monster wave in person was something else entirely.

It was truly a great thing that he had unlocked Acting Adept so early; now his emotions were hard to grasp. Despite the fear that was trying to overwhelm him, he was able to act like it was nothing.

On the other hand, Robert, beside him, was never unnerved. He was actually looking at the monsters and thinking about the materials he could gain from them.

Daniel, who was among the members of Thornefang, was also looking at the monster wave, not in fear, but in exasperation as he sighed. This was going to be a lot of work.

Veronica, on the other hand, was looking at the monster wave with a burning determination to make her mark on this battlefield.

Then there was Thrall, who was getting even more excited to toss away the arquebus in his hand, jump down the battlement, and charge at the monster wave. Of course, most of the people present were feeling tense as they waited for Vardon’s orders.

The horde pressed onward, a tide of flesh and claw that blotted out the horizon. The ground itself seemed to crawl with them, the thunder of their march shaking frost loose from the battlements. Their roars and shrieks meshed into a single sound, an ocean of hate crashing against stone.

The veterans of the First Fortress stood rigid at their posts, but even they could not keep their knuckles from whitening on spear and bow.

Some muttered quick prayers beneath their breath; others clenched their jaws until blood beaded at their gums.

”Today we will once again defend our home and our loved ones from the monsters that come to harm them!” Vardon’s voice was, as usual, firm and unafraid. ”Now show me warriors of Norvaegard, the courage of a warrior, and roar!”

Hearing Vardon’s confident voice filled the people around him with confidence as well. It was unclear who spoke out first, but a single voice echoed through the fortress, making the others shout as well.

”For Norvaegard!” The sound of their voices was loud enough to offset the rumbling from the monster wave that was incoming.

”For the Iron Duke!”

Their cheers turned into roars as they readied their weapons. The aura users were now bursting out their mantles, enveloping them.

The mages started chanting, getting ready to unleash powerful spells. The archers readied their bows. Those with arquebuses started loading their guns. The clerics prayed to the deities they believed in to help everyone in battle.

The fortress itself seemed to awaken. Chains rattled as the gates were barred, ballista crews cranked their winches, and the newly mounted Thunderspears were being loaded with gunpowder and heavy metal balls.

From the north, the monster wave drew closer, shadows now visible as individual forms, their snarls and shrieks carried on the cutting wind.

The frozen river beneath them cracked and groaned, spiderwebs of fractures racing along the ice as though the land itself wanted to flee.

Lucen’s pulse hammered in his ears, steadying only when he gripped his arquebus tighter. Harlik barked final orders down the line, Thornefang members snapping into formation with unnerving discipline.

Beside him, Robert tilted his head, murmuring half to himself. ”Carapace chitin... Scales from the blue wyverns... Skin of the grey serpent. Hmmm... Truly quite the collection...” Robert spoke as he then wore his favorite mask with a beak.

Daniel muttered something about ”overtime work” as he checked the Iron spheres at his waist. Thrall laughed low in his throat, eyes shining like a beast set loose.

Veronica and Bram, alongside the other members of Thornefang, got ready to shoot down whatever was to come.

Then the horns of the First Fortress sounded, long and low. The first batch of monsters had reached the arquebuses’ range.

”Arquebuses! Front rank, ready!” Harlik roared as he too got ready to shoot.

Lucen raised his weapon, the weight of it grounding him. Around him, dozens of barrels angled toward the blizzard, and he could hear the sound of the ignition.

”Get the Thunderspears ready to shoot!” Harlik gave another order.

The monsters broke into view, tusks and claws glistening with frost, eyes burning with hunger.

Lucen’s voice carried over it all, filled with passion. ”Now let’s show this monster what overwhelming firepower means! FIRE!”

Upon the signal, the sound of the arquebuses and the Thunderspears made a loud booming sound.

In the distance that no arrow without the use of aura could reach, several monsters fell as metal balls, were either piercing their bodies or ripping apart their flesh.

This was the first time the soldiers of the first fortress saw the new weapons in action, and it was truly a sight to behold.

These powerful new weapons were things that can be used by anyone, without any need for aura or mana. To think something like this was created by their young lord.

As the soldiers were still in a state of awe, some monster got past the first volley and got within arrow range.

”Archers!” Commander Roderick’s voice cut through the blizzard. ”Nock!”

The soldiers’ focus came back as a hundred bowstrings creaked in unison.

”Loose!”

A black rain of arrows fell, vanishing into the white. Distant shrieks answered, some cut short, others only enraged. The wave did not slow.

”Continue firing!” Lucen barked as he got ready to shoot again.

The battlements shook again as another volley roared. Smoke clung to the walls, acrid and stinging, curling around the archers as they loosed arrow after arrow into the blizzard.

From the white haze, the first trolls crashed forward, their tusks wet with frozen spittle, their boulder-sized fists pounding against the chains drawn across the gorge.

Arrows bristled from their hides, arquebus balls had torn bloody holes in their flesh, yet they kept coming, roaring, their rage drowning pain.

The mages who were finished chanting their spells bombarded the monster wave with fire, earth, and blades of wind.

”Reload! Quickly!” Harlik’s voice cut through the chaos, his own arquebus spitting fire and smoke. Thornefang moved like clockwork, ramming powder and lead with practiced precision.

But the monsters were not idle. One of the wyverns screamed overhead, its icy breath cascading down like shards of glass.

The wards flared, thin light shielding the walls, but soldiers stumbled as the ground beneath them iced over.

”Ballistae, bring it down!” Roderick thundered. Bolts the size of spears launching skyward. One struck true, piercing the wyvern’s wing. The beast shrieked, spiraling down, crushing its own kind beneath its fall.

It was then that a grey serpent reared from the horde like a tower of writhing flesh, its many mouths snapping and screeching, each voice a jagged blade on the ears.

The thing surged forward, its coils plowing through lesser monsters as though they were nothing more than grass before a scythe.

Sir Thalos, enveloped in his aura mantle that was like a burning flame, smashed his fist onto the grey serpent. His punch, which was at full strength, made the grey snake coil in pain.

Sir Thalos then continued to pound at the grey snake until it could no longer move, and eventually died.

Two wyverns were getting too close to the battlements, while everybody else was firing. Most had no time to react as they were already so close.

As the wyverns came closer, Vardon got into a stance and, with a simple swing of his sword, at a speed that was barely visible to the naked eye, the wings of the two wyverns were sliced as they came crashing down to the ground.

Lucen was amazed by the skill his Father used as he shouted commands to Thornefang. ”Again! Keep firing! Don’t stop!”

The chain across the gorge groaned as the trolls slammed into it, their fists hammering like siege engines. Links thicker than a man’s torso quivered, ice shattering from their iron bulk. The chains were starting to break.

”Thunderspears! Kill those trolls!” Harlik barked as he shot another Dire Wendigo in the head.

The cannons thundered, the very walls shaking with the recoil. Iron balls tore through trolls, smashing skulls, blowing apart chests in sprays of black ichor.

The veterans of the First Fortress, hardened though they were, stared wide-eyed at the devastation. They had fought monster waves before, but never with such fire.

Still, the horde pressed on. The grey serpent lay broken, the wyverns were falling, and yet the tide did not falter. Wyerns, insects, twisted giants, and many more monsters threw themselves at the fortress with suicidal hunger.

Lucen, using the new arquebus: Thunderstorm shot all four iron balls, loaded, fired all four again, and then loaded again, his body moving faster than thought, Acting Adept keeping his focus unshaken. Beside him, Thornefang worked like a machine, disciplined, relentless, their shots ringing out as one.

Amidst all of that, Lucen was receiving many system notifications, but he had no time to listen to or read them. Even a single second of distraction could mean death on this battlefield. So he simply continued firing.

Still, the roar of the monster wave drowned all else. The ground shook again. This time, heavier. Deeper. The kind of sound that rolled through bone. From the white haze of the blizzard, something vast began to emerge.

At first, Lucen thought it was a mountain moving. Then he saw its eyes, two burning coals set in a skull of jagged ice and horn. Each breath it exhaled froze the very air, the mist curling around its titanic frame.

It was a f*cking Frost Titan. The fortress walls themselves seemed to groan at its approach. Even the veterans, men and women who had stared down wave after wave, were visibly shaken. Seeing this near-endgame monster appearing here made Lucen curse in his mind.

It was then that the Frost Titan roared, a sound that split the blizzard in two.