“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Baast asked.

  The Touldan’s eyes scanned the area. The barren trees were regaining their color, and a tinge of green painted the brown grass. The spring air slowly brought the forest back to life. It normally brought a smile to Baast’s lips, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

  Where were the spying eyes hiding? There was no movement amongst the branches and the brush, and the sky was bright and clear. Animals skittered across the ground as they approached and disappeared deeper into the woods. His eyes landed on a patch of sky that was hazy, like how heat warped the air, but when he blinked, the sky was back to normal.

  “We have nothing to worry about Baast.” Count Delimaar replied with a sinister smile. “We’re only here to assist my cousin. Besides, bandits start to swarm small villages this time of year.” A deep chuckle escaped the nobles lips. “I’m certain the Inventor could make us of my men to keep the peace. I’d hate to hear some of his villagers went missing.”

  Explains why Torrn is missing. Baast kept his lips from twisting into a sneer by fiddling with his gauntlets.

  The leather gloves were wrapped with intricate iron bands that glowed with the teal light of arcanum. Strength and dexterity runes were carved into the protective plates along the back of his hand. It provided a comforting warmth that radiated through his thick arms.

  Baast’s eyes fell onto the ragged dark elf that followed closely behind his lord. “Do you think it’s wise to bring her. The Inventor may take offense to her presence.”

  “He has no reason to judge me, especially since he’s made my Green Lady his pet.”

  Forgive me my lord, but your son is an utter fool. Baast slowly let out a deep breath to comfort the shame that crushed his heart. His mind wandered to the previous Count Delimaar.

  The previous count was a proud, loyal man of remarkable martial prowess. The skill he displayed is what won the heart of the late Duke Sigmund’s youngest sister. Unfortunately, his son didn’t inherit any of his father’s character, and worse, rejected Baast’s teachings.

  “You’re very right sir!” a knight called out, causing the others to cheer.

  Accursed sycophants. “I still believe you should have sent a messenger ahead. The Inventor may see your actions as hostile, and he may decide to take actions against Duke Rumand because of this.”

  “Then we’ll petition the king for assistance.” Delimaar sighed in annoyance. “Even with his special armor, he doesn’t have the strength to oppose his majesty.”

  Baast’s grinded his teeth. “Very well.” He’s forgotten about the alliances the Inventor’s made.

  Delimaar chuckled at his manservant. “Don’t be that way Baast. Whatever influence you believe the Inventor to have, it won’t last long if something terrible were to happen to my invalid cousin.” He said, running his hand along his sword’s hilt. The Count slowly raised his head and started looking around. “Do you hear… horns?”

  There was a faint sound on the wind. It could be horns being played as an alarm, but how would anyone know they were coming? They hadn’t seen any scouts keeping watch, nor were there any tracks on the road ahead of them. Then, something rose above the trees.

  It looked like a cloud, yet it sparkled like metal reflecting sunlight. The disturbing part was that this cloud was moving against the wind.

  “What is that?”

  Everyone stopped as they stared at the approaching cloud. The faint call of the horns was drowned out by a dull buzz that slowly grew louder. It reminded Baast of a hornet swarm, and it made him grip his reins tightly. The cloud moved faster, and they could see spots of red intermingled within the grey cloud. The horses whined in fear, forcing their riders to keep them under control. When the steeds finally settled down, the cloud was overhead, although a swarm was a better description.

  Hundreds of spherical objects flew over head with a singular red eye in the center. They weren’t large creatures, about the size of a child’s toy ball, one kicked around for fun, but they were covered completely in metal. The frightening creatures formed into multiple rings, each one rotating in a slow circular pattern opposite its neighbors. The sight was dizzying, but no one could take their eyes off them.

  “Halt!” The word reverberated through the air. “You are trespassing. Leave or you will be removed by force!”

  Everyone huddled together with their hands resting on their weapons. A tremor ran through Baast. It took considerable will not to urge his horse into a retreat.

  “Sir, I suggest we fall back.” The attendant called out. “These things are activating my [Primal Sense] talent.”

  Delimaar spat in disgust. “Are you saying these things frighten you?” He turned his gaze upward. “I am Count Delimaar, a lord directly under Duke Rumand’s authority. By whose right do you command me?”

  “Mine!”

  The Count and Baast turned their gaze back to the road. An army blocked the road.

  The bulk of their forces were mounted knights, their weapons at the ready, with about a hundred foot-soldiers behind them. When it came to numbers, Delimaar’s army was superior, but the two warriors out front stood out from the rest.

  The dragon-heart stood proudly in her steel blue armor that glistened with a teal glare. Her golden eyes scanned the army with a predatory glare, and her boots dug into the dirt road. Wisps of blue flame escaped her mouth. An obvious sign of her readied aggression. Her presence alone could turn the tides, but it was her master that was the true threat.

  It had to be the Inventor. The armor matched the brief description that the Count gave. Silver-white plate mail glistening with veins of pulsing blue magic. No one could deny the remarkable power that suit held. Even in the hands of an amateur, it posed a great threat.

  “I don’t appreciate you trespassing on my lands, Count Delimaar!” The Inventor shouted. “Especially with an army in tow. Turn around immediately, or I shall consider this as an act of aggression.”

  “An act of aggression? I’m here to provide support for Duke Sigmund!” Delimaar replied sourly. “Would you deny me the right to support my own kin?”

  “The Duke has no need of your support Count!” The knight leading the column snapped. “By order from the Duke himself, we are here to support the Inventor in turning back your invasion.”

  That last line placed a massive wall in front of them. The Duke himself declared this an invasion which meant they had to approach this carefully. If they proceeded, then it could mean war between dukedoms. Although such wars consisted of petty skirmishes, it could lead to severe ramifications, especially with the ducal capital half a day away.

  “My lord, I recommend we fall back.” Baast advised his liege.

  “Why should we? We are not in the wrong!”

  “It’s dangerous to proceed –”

  “I’ll get the King involved.” Delimaar shouted in rage. “You hear that Inventor? Now let me pass!”

  The Inventor’s head fell. Perhaps he was conceding? It’s hard to tell since his helmet covered his face.

  Then, the Inventor raised his head. “Very well, run to the King. We’ll take our grievances to Duke Rumand. I’m certain we’ll reach a compromise while you’re still traveling.”

  “Duke Rumand spends most of his days in the capital.” Delimaar replied harshly. “It’s impossible for you to make it there before us, or have you learned how to fly?”

  Baast’s mouth twisted in thought. The Count’s right. It’ll take at least a week to prepare for that journey. There’s no conceivable method for them to arrive before us. His thoughts were interrupted by the other side.

  “I won’t say this again. Leave, now!”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The tension between them had reached it’s peak. Someone needed to diffuse it before a fight broke out.

  “Let us fall back my Lord.” Baast whispered. “We can restock our supplies in Rumand then head towards the capital.”

  The Count’s hands repeated clenched his reins, and Baast feared that he wouldn’t see sense. Thankfully, he loosened his grip and pulled the reins to usher his horse backwards. Baast let out a sigh of relief, but it was premature.

  He barely saw the Count reach for his side, bringing a twisted horn to his lips. It let out a deep timbre note that rang throughout the forest. It was followed by the worst possible command.

  “Charge!”

  The mercenaries and knights stormed forward with a harrowing war cry. Steel rang out as the two armies clashed, and bolts of red magic rained from the flying golems above.

  A bolt struck Baast in his shoulder, it felt like being stabbed with a hot poker, and his noticed his health slightly shrink. Thankfully, the damage was minimal, not enough to kill, but it was the sheer multitude that made the attacks dangerous.

  Baast shouted in rage, “Sir, what are you doing?”

  “I’m not going to be driven away by a crafter!” Delimaar replied before turning back to his men. “Those in the back, flank around the sides. Try to get around them and make your way to the village. Baast, due your duty and protect me.”

  Baast let out a low growl and descended from his horse. Unlike the other knights, he wasn’t trained in mounted combat, so he had no choice but to give up the height advantage. Being on the ground made it easier to dodge the magic bolts, but it was little consolation to the threat he had to face.

  A sword rang against Nathaniel’s shield. It gave him enough time to slip his sword underneath the mercenary’s guard and strike a lethal blow. An alarm rang in his helmet, and he quickly dodged a blow aimed for his head. This battle was completely different from the Horde raid several months ago.

  The vast number of enemy combatants, as well as fighting alongside other soldiers, limited his movements greatly. The glide runes were practically useless since he was sandwiched between his allies and his enemies, and without them, dodging all attacks was impossible. That fact was made evident by the ringing of metal as a sword struck his left pauldron. It was only thanks to the armor that he hadn’t taken any damage.

  If it wasn’t for the civilians, I’d use the arcane canon to thin them out. Frustration welled up in his chest. Although he couldn’t see them, he was aware of the servants hiding behind the wagons at the back of the army. As long as they were there, he didn’t want to take any risks, thus he was limited to his sword and shield.

  A flash of gold shined to his left. Ralia’s spear cleaved through the army in front of her. It formed holes in the enemy ranks which allowed the Duke’s men to charge forward. She kept pushing deeper into their ranks and only fell back when threatened with being surrounded. Is that wise for her to do that?

  […]

  Why isn’t Intuition giving me any answers?

  [Data not available.]

  I can’t get an answer because I have no knowledge on warfare tactics?

  [Correct.]

  Nathaniel couldn’t take his eyes off the prompt. This was the first time Intuition had failed to provide any assistance. The shock made him let down his guard, and he was rewarded with a smack upside the head. Thankfully, the armor negated all damage.

  “Keep going Inventor!”

  Nathaniel glanced over at Hera, who was fighting off the enemy knights. She charged her horse forward, using its momentum to assist her attacks, and with a single swipe, she knocked him off his horse.

  “We need to break through their formation and get to their back lines!” she cried. “It will break their morale, and we can take the fight to the Count himself.”

  “She’s right Inventor. Keep pushing!”

  “We’re right behind you!”

  The soldiers behind him cheered and pushed Nathaniel forward. Warmth filled his chest, and he diverted power to his armor’s most powerful rune.

  [Exponential Enhancement Rune activated.]

  Fire and lightning coursed through Nathaniel’s body. He charged straight into the enemy lines, any in his path were easily pushed aside by his enhanced strength. A celebratory roar followed him, driving him deeper into the enemy formation.

  Nathaniel’s sword easily cleaved through the enemy soldiers, and his shield sent others flying into the comrades. He no longer felt the presence of the Duke’s soldiers, nor could he hear their cries, but he kept charging forward. Nathaniel finally broke through the last line and found himself free of enemy soldiers. They all gathered outside of his attack range with shaking swords pointed at him.

  The drones above pelted the enemies with their laser bolts, but it looked like they barely felt it. Their bodies flinched whenever struck with no real signs of pain.

  “Seneschal, can you have the sentinels increase their damage?”

  “I’d advise against it.” Seneschal replied. “Their lasers have the greatest power draw, and if I increase the damage, they’ll have to withdraw before the enemy can be routed.”

  Nathaniel cursed his past self for such a narrow-minded design. He designed the sentinels to work within the confines of the dungeon. He never expected the robots to fight beyond the dungeon’s borders, and now he was paying the price.

  “Where is Count Delimaar?”

  “He’s at the back, near the civilians. He has a guard with him and a dark elf slave.”

  “I’m rescuing the slave. Prepare the sentinels to back me up.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Free from any obstructions, Nathaniel ordered magic from the power core into the glide runes carved into the boots. The ease of movement made it easier to carve through the back line of the mercenary army. Most of the soldiers jumped out of the way, leaving themselves open for an attack. The Count’s army fell apart from within, and Nathaniel heard the victorious cries of the Duke’s men behind him.

  “We need to fall back!” He heard the Count’s men cry. “We’re not getting paid enough for this job!”

  “No one mentioned there’d be a dragon-heart here.”

  “You’re worried about her? What about those things in the sky?”

  “Stow it! Reform your lines quick!” a heavily armored knight ordered. “We still outnumber them, so victory is ours if we keep pushing!”

  He’s right. Nathaniel growled at the thought. The sentinels aren’t doing enough damage, and Ralia will eventually run out of stamina. It’ll fall to me to fight the bulk of the army.

  Nathaniel sheathed his sword. “Then let’s thin them out.”

  The plates on his right gauntlet shifted. The transformation forced his hand to form a loose fist as the metal plates on the fingers parted, exposing the orichalcum circuit beneath. The crystal lens tucked beneath the armor on the back of his hand locked into place in front of the circuit, and a faint blue light pulsed behind it.

  “Divert one point of power to canon.” Nathaniel commanded, pointing his newly formed arm canon at the nearest soldier. “Fire!”

  The enemy soldier brought his shield up as a bolt of blue energy shot from the canon. It ate through the wood and metal shield, tore through his arm, and burned through the padded armor and flesh of the soldier’s body. Blood sprayed out of the large hole in his chest. The sight made bile rise in Nathaniel’s throat, but he kept firing into the crowd. As long as he kept the canon pointed to the sides, he’d avoid hitting his allies behind him and the civilians at the back of the army.

  The mercenary soldiers screamed in terror as he continued to advance. Nathaniel no longer had to push his way towards the back since the enemy voluntarily parted before him. Eventually, the wagons appeared before him as did Count Delimaar on his majestic warhorse. A female dark elf, dressed in filthy rags, cowered behind the nearest wagon.

  “Now Seneschal!”

  Nathaniel raced passed the noble and scooped the elven woman into his arms. As he retreated into the army, a group of the drones circled around him.

  Count Delimaar released a feral howl. “No! Baast bring her back now!”

  There’s no way he’ll catch me. Nathaniel chuckled. “Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll get you out of here.” He said calmly to the elf.

  The elven woman drummed her fists onto his chest. “Put me down!” she said, tears streaked her face. “Put me down now, or my people -”

  “Are safe, and they’re waiting for you Gywneld.” He replied. “That is your name, right?”

  “Y-yes.”

  Nathaniel let out a relieved sigh.

  “Sir, there’s a problem.” Seneschal’s voice brought him back. “You have a tail.”

  An image appeared along the side of his vision. It was a strange sight. Behind him, a dark-skinned man in half-plate was chasing him. Magical light radiated from his feet and calves forming illusionary wings around him. The sentinels protecting Nathaniel shot several bolts at him, but he deflected the attacks with his gauntlets.

  “How is he able to keep up?”

  “Don’t know, but I suggest evasive maneuvers. I’ll have the drones clear you a path.”

  Nathaniel weaved through the enemy soldiers as the drones above shot into the soldiers in front of him, each blast made them howl in pain before they fell over. The drones began falling from the sky, dissolving into thin air, as they ran out of power, but Nathaniel was still being pursued, and he was getting closer.

  If I can just make it back to the army! Sweat fell from Nathaniel’s brow. There’s no way he could fight this man off while protecting Gywneld, especially surrounded by enemies. Damn it, after this is over, I’m having someone teach me battle tactics!

  The pursuer reached out, his finger brushing against Nathaniel’s armor, but a flash of blue and gold appeared between them.

  “Leave him be!” Ralia screamed as she bathed the area in fire.

  Nathaniel turned on the spot. “Ralia!”

  “Leave this to me! Focus on getting the elf to safety.”

  “Alright. I’ll return shortly.”

  Nathaniel sped away. Not wanting to waste time, he weaved through the trees along the side of the road.

  Now that he was beyond the battle, he could see that the fight was going in their favor, but the bulk of the enemy army still fought back. He needed to get Gywneld back to the dungeon quickly before he could return to the battle. Fortunately, one of the Duke’s knights fell to the back of the army to rest.

  Nathaniel slid up to the knight. “I need you to take this elf back to the dungeon for me!”

  “Sir?”

  “She’s one of my subjects that was stolen by Count Delimaar.” Nathaniel quickly replied. “Get her back to the dungeon safely, and I’ll reward you with a suit of armor.”

  Gywneld disappeared from Nathaniel’s arms, and the knight gently held her against his chest. “As you command my Lord!” He roared.

  Before Nathaniel could reply, the horse flew down the road back to Treante. At least she’s safe. Relief flooded Nathaniel as he turned back towards the fighting.

  “Sir.” Seneschal’s voice sent a chill down his spine. “I need to report that there’s fighting in the village.”

  “Did some make it pass us?”

  “Yes sir, but Lady Bella and Hope are fending them off at the front of the village with the guardians.” Seneschal reported. “But another group has made it inside. They are currently in combat with the villagers and remaining soldiers. It’s not going well.”

  Fear flooded Nathaniel’s chest. “What happened to the guardians?”

  “The villagers engaged in combat too early. The guardians were unable to fight the enemy at range.”

  “Recall all sentinels immediately! Prioritize the defense of the villagers now!”

  A deep, stabbing pain filled his chest as he watched the sentinels fly back towards the villager. Instead, all it did was remind him of the failure that still haunted him.