Chapter 419: A Battle in the White

Alex, Claygon and Isolde shot away when the ground cracked. Rock whizzed by. With jaws clenched, Alex weaved through the barrage, praying to the Traveller that they would clear the pelting rocks.

Stone shards seemed to soar in every direction, but only dust reached them. He sent out a silent prayer of thanks to the Traveller as he peered into the gaping chasm, then swore.

The craggy tear in the earth was teeming with a pulsating mass of spear-flies with one goal: he recalled drawings in the bestiaries of their dried out victims.

Their wings snapped out, propelling long insectile bodies upward. The creatures launched toward the surface as one, but as they neared, the hole’s ragged edges crumbled, raining massive rock shards, forcing Ravener-Spawn down to an unforgiving tunnel floor.

But, like falling snowflakes, dozens more appeared, replacing the dead. Above the eerie sound of howling winds, the beating of leathery wings grew as swarm upon swarm of spear-flies rose from the dungeon below, thirsting for blood. In heartbeats, the courtyard exploded into shouted spells, war-cries, explosions and energy blasts. Trap-sigils blazed bright every time Ravener-spawn flew near, spells flared into a mass of tiny beads of light no bigger than acorns, then exploded, shrapnel skewering spear-flies, tearing through one insectile body then another in a cascade. Dozens plummeted, ending their ascent.

The storm's gusting winds were also working in the wizards' favour as they grabbed the lighter monsters and flung them straight into stone, ice walls, and waiting swords. In a sense, the teams’ first snowstorm in Greymoor might have been a blessing for them.

But, nature alone couldn’t blow clouds of Ravener-spawn away and more attacked with abandon.

The wizards, warriors and guards fought back.

Beside Alex, Isolde shouted an incantation. Lightning blazed around her hands and thunder rumbled through electrified air; Alex felt his scalp crawl as she unleashed a new spell. Her arms swept out, the young noblewoman clenched her fists, tendril-like, crackling whips of lightning formed in her grip. Around her, the air thrummed with thunder as she swept her whips through the coming swarm.

The creatures crackled, splitting apart where lightning touched them, and crumbling where thunder raked their flesh. Still more appeared, pressing her from all sides. Some bounced off of greater force armour, but others clung tight, sawing at her defensive magic with jagged limbs.

"Enough of that!" Alex cried, shooting a Wizard's Hand beside his cabal mate.

The spell's grip tightened on a flask of sleeping potion, cracking it. Isolde hovered in potion mist, enveloped for a moment, then spear-flies abruptly fell away, plummeting to the snow covered earth.

"Thank you!" she called, her lightning-whips cracking through the swarm.

Alex was already focused on defending himself.

Spear-flies swarmed from all around, focusing on him. If dozens had attacked Isolde, then hundreds were attacking him; he tried weaving through them, but there were too many to escapedodge from. He could never dodge every flake of snow in a blizzard, just as he could never dodge every one of these monsters. Their number was as thick as the wall of snow swirling through the courtyard, and they carpeted him in mounds, clinging to his force shield so tightly, that it looked like it was some strange force construct of giant bugs.

His defensive force rectangles shattered one by one—as they shifted position, trying to block monsters. They landed on his force armour next, crawling over it, using barbed legs to test for weak spots. A probing spear-fly wormed its way into a gap, its pointed proboscis was poised, ready to stab him, when a wave of magical energy stopped it cold; the witch's ring tingled on his finger.

"Get off me!" Alex plucked spawn away, tossing them to the wind, but even more settled in their place. Forceballs and force shield whirled around him, knocking some aside, scraping others away, but though these defences were quickly overwhelmed, his elementals saved him.

The extraplanar creatures of air were there—six crackling protectors to defend him from the horde—to do their work without restraint. Exploding wind gusts howled, blowing light-bodied spear-flies into pelting snow. Lightning pulsed, raking the winged creatures, sending their sparking forms into free fall.

"Good work!" Alex shouted to the summons. "I need three of you whipping around me like a tornado, and three defending Isolde! Hit these things with everything you’ve got!” He pointed to the Rhinean wizard as the numbers of monsters swarming her escalated. "Don't let a single one through."

Isolde was defending herself with crackling whips and orbs of lightning, but even her deep mana reserves couldn't last forever. All six of his elementals crackled, three broke away, surrounding Isolde, defending her from the monsters’ attacks. The other three whirled around him, spraying lightning and wind in all directions, casting Ravener-spawn down to their ruin.

Spear-flies scattered, but hundreds more were still silhouetted in the blizzard and whiteout around them. Unseen defenders—wizards and more—screamed in the distance, shrouded by blinding snow, clearly not faring well.

Frantic calls for help reached him.

His Wizard's Hands flew toward the voices, tightly clutching booby-trapped potion bottles, and stopping in the midst of a monster swarm. Glass shattered, releasing a combined mist of booby-trapped flight and sleep magic. In breaths, the enemy dropped like rocks, or launched uncontrolled through the storm, colliding with each other, the Watchers’ gauntlets, walls and eventually the ground. ‘Claygon!' Alex thought. 'Charge your fire-beams!'

His golem hovered nearby, sweeping his war-spear and fists through the swarm, batting and pulping dozens of Ravener-spawn in one swing. As Alex's voice came through their mental bond, the fire-beams' burning light illuminated whipping snow.

Whooooooom!

They gathered power.

Their mana built; Alex grabbed more potions from his satchel, tossing them to his Wizard's Hands. All around him, shouting and muffled cries came in waves as the castle's defenders battled what seemed to be an ever-renewing horde of spear-flies.

'If these spawn are after Carey and me, I’d better try and keep most of their attention on me,' he thought.

"Isolde! I'll try and herd as many of these things in one place as I can and get them away from everyone else so Claygon can blast them! Are you gonna be okay?" He shouted.

"I can handle myself! I have no doubt they can use more help at the keep! Good hunting!" she cried, soaring into the sky with his conjured guardians surrounding her.

Alex took a deep breath, eyeing the swarm around him. "Alright, you wicked bastards!" He called. "You want me? Come get me!"

He tucked in his limbs—reducing wind resistance—and shot through the freezing storm, bellowing challenges to the spear-flies, taunting them as he flew. They probably had no clue what he was saying, but they immediately took the bait, trailing after him, following like an entity was directing them.

"That's right!" Alex shouted. "I’ve got some blood for you and your filthy maker. Try and get some!"

They tore through the sky weaving above the battlefield, and Alex glanced down toward the fighters, taking stock of how they were faring.

Like phantoms in a world painted white, Ravener-spawn were everywhere.

They were bursting from the earth through dozens of jagged holes, then setting upon the Generasians like fire ants. Spear-flies swarmed through the sky, but another type of Ravener-spawn churned through snow drifts, kicking up sprays of white. Bone-chargers raged through the courtyard, squealing and barreling toward anything they could reach.

The Watchers of Roal met them with spell and steel. With magic blazing, they struck the enemy with spells of force, frost and flame, striking the mighty bone-chargers. Above them, wind mages cast whirlwinds to contain the spear-flies, while other wizards conjured their own swarms of elementals and summoned monsters to tear the spear-flies from the air.

Yet, for all of this power, bone-chargers still barrelled through spell after spell, running down warriors, trampling them where they stood. Patches of white turned red.

Alex bristled, the things needed to die.

"With me, Watchers!" A familiar voice cried from somewhere in the blowing snow. "Send these spawn back to the cradles of filth they crawled from!"

Watcher Shaw emerged like a vengeful war-spirit, floating above the earth, his form wreathed in flame. His sword was sheathed in power, blazing in a storm of force magic and he shouted an incantation, channelling a staggering amount of mana. He levelled his staff as he finished the spell, unleashing a cone of screaming spirits into the world.

They raged through spear-flies and bone-chargers alike—passing through flesh like water—and when they emerged from the other side, they clutched chunks of meat in their phantom hands. The Ravener-spawn stopped—stricken—spewing fountains of black and red, until collapsing in pools of melting snow.

Any monsters spared from the blast were met by the Watcher’s flashing sword. With every blade strike, his force magic boomed, crushing bone and tough hide, letting the blade slide through soft underbellies. With each stroke, a bone-charger fell, Shaw leaving carnage in his wake; his fellow Watchers followed the same path, destroying spawn on land and in the air.

"You actually spar with these people, Theresa?" Alex muttered to himself as he soared past the Watchers, gaining attention from a growing number of Ravener-spawn. "Claygon, I want you to get as many spawn as you can! Clear them out with your war-spear!"

Silently, the golem dove—his upper arms charging the fire-gems—while his lower ones ripped the war-spear through bone-chargers. The blade split their hard carapace and tough hide like fresh curds, and each monster withered from the spear's deadly magics. Some whirled, leaping high into the air to strike at the golem, but a massive clay fist sent them tumbling back to the snow in broken heaps.

Bone-chargers scattered, leaving their fallen brethren behind. But as they fled, their eyes didn’t focus on Claygon.

They fell on Alex.

If there was any doubt before that they were there for him, there was none now; as he flew past the packs of bone-chargers, they squealed like wild boar set upon by a wolf pack, and charged after him.

Some abruptly abandoned fights with the castle's golems and the hulking, summoned demons the wizards had conjured. A pack menaced a group of spear-wielding warriors until; the blurring form of Ripp sprinted through the snow with his glinting blade in hand, diving beneath towering Ravener-spawn, hamstringing them, leaving them as easy prey for Generasi spear bearers.

Alex approached as a warrior strayed too close to a bone-charger, it snatched the man’s leg in its jaws at the same moment Ripp’s blade hamstrung it, but it still raised a giant fist above the warrior, poised to crush him while it tumbled like a falling oak. An enormous war-spear arced from above, slicing the Ravener-spawn's skull in two. Its fist dropped. The wounded man lay in the snow, eyes wide and breathing hard. Ripp bent down to help him up.

Alex cursed; he couldn't drop any booby-trapped potions since he didn’t know who was protected by Orbs of Air and who wasn’t. So he did the next best thing. He egged on the monsters.

Alex growled. "Hey, over here!" He shouted. "C’mon you bastards. Catch me! Catch me!"

The bone-crushers' eyes flared as they spotted him, and squealing, pulled away from the warriors to chase after the Thameish Wizard.

Alex led them through the whipping white frost, picking up more speed as he called out to them. He flew above the aeld and was grateful that the monsters passed it by like it wasn’t even there. It must've seemed harmless to them, but Alex wasn't so sure it was harmless to them. As bone-chargers gave chase, strange misfortunes hit them: some slipped on ice, or were blinded by sudden wind gusts, spinning them through the air and into each other, toppling them in twisted heaps like clumsy acrobats.

The aeld tree’s fortune did not favour them, it seemed.

Those that remained upright, though, sprinted after Alex as though the fires of every hell in the planes pursued them.

"That's right, chase me," he whispered, turning toward the swarm at his back and the horde below. They filled his vision, spreading out into the snow-lashed whiteout.

Whooooom!

"You're not going to like what you catch," Alex sent the mental command to Claygon.

'Fire.'

Whoooosh!

Two fire-beams lanced into the horde below while the third raked the swarm above. Instantly, spear-flies exploded in an inferno, bursting from pent up heat. As insectile creatures died, Claygon’s beams spread deeper into the thinning swarms. Snow vapourized, and white blazed red and gold in columns of flame. Bone-chargers burned in moments, the air superheating and turning their lungs to ash; their glowing eyes dimmed in fire.

Soon, winter's chill seemed far away when Claygon’s fire beams finally stopped.

The horde was devastated: piles of smoking ash and blackened bodies slowly smouldered in melting snow. Hissing vapour snaked into the air, dispersing in the wind.

Alex sighed in satisfaction. "Time to do it again, Clay—"

An earth shattering explosion, strong enough to sway an escarpment, rocked the castle, with a sound like thunder.

The young wizard whirled in that direction, his blood dropping colder than the blizzard. "That came from the teleportation building! Claygon, we've got to—"

Beside him, the ground detonated.

An enormous monster clad in bone loomed beside him.

And he felt mana flare.