B3 Chapter 81: A Bolt from the Blue
B3 Chapter 81: A Bolt from the Blue
B3 Chapter 81: A Bolt from the Blue
Tiberius lifted his voice. “Jupiter himself has blessed our battle. Fight, and destroy those who would stand against Rome!”
The statement may have been a little redundant, given the pillar of lightning that had preceded it. But Tiberius would take any opportunity to bolster morale and his troops.
The Legionnaires glowed as another [Inspiring Oration] settled over them. They advanced in lockstep, a noose tightening around their grounded foe as it regained its footing. Dozens of spears hurtled toward its wings in an attempt to pierce them through and further restrict its movements. But even with all the empowerments layered upon the men, most left only shallow wounds across the scale-like layer of blue and gold feathers.
Still, given the speed and persistence of the attacks, it was clear that even these wounds were adding up—and quickly. The bird screeched, wobbling in place as adventurers continued to hammer at its joints with their own attacks. The bird continued to stomp down at the line of men surrounding it, sending volleys of feathers and painful screeches out with an almost frantic frequency. The tide had shifted. That much was clear.
The others seemed to realize this as well. In particular, the priests. Half of them were actively engaged with the adventurers behind the Legion’s lines, hurling bolts of holy light and swinging swords of blessed steel, while the other half continued to battle with Tiberius’s guards. Yet at this newest development, both groups changed tactics.
A few of the priests disengaged, pulling back from their assault on Tiberius. A quick glance over revealed a few white-robed bodies lying across the courtyard with blood pooling beneath them. As his guards regrouped, Tiberius saw the retreating priests take on a more defensive formation. A ghostly fortress appeared around them, attacks bouncing off its shimmering walls as four white and gold clad priests stood at the corners like towers. Then, the priests inside raised their hands. They began to glow with holy light that rose up and drifted toward the raven’s injured wings. The broken and useless wing began to mend, popping sickeningly back into place.
Tiberius swore. Of course they could heal their abomination. Worse, the remainder of the priests were doing their best to keep the adventurers off the channeling priests, with the Legionnaires far too occupied to join in.
He nearly ordered his own guards to assault the channeling priests, but the enemies still engaged with his men were determined to keep their attention. Their figures glowed with multicolored light as they renewed their assault. Tiberius saw their skin blacken and char in places as the light’s intensity consumed their very bodies. Yet the sacrifices bought them power, power that forced Tiberius’s guards to hunker down and focus on deflecting their blows.
Their power boost obviously wouldn’t last forever. But it would last long enough to buy time.
Tiberius continued to shout orders as he glanced around the battlefield, taking stock of the resources at his disposal. He could not afford to pull his men away from their own battles. But the adventurers… Despite his best efforts to coordinate them, they were still not being utilized as efficiently as they could be. Most were too stuck in the small group tactics they knew to properly combine their efforts with other groups. If he could address that…
He made a decision. Focusing on a few particular groups of adventurers that fit his needs, Tiberius roared once more. “Destroy that fortress and those within!”
He imbued the words with [Royal Proclamation], impressing his royal authority upon his subjects, and [Military Leadership] to make his strategy clear. The two skills combined, draining his stamina precipitously as they fell upon the groups he’d mentally indicated. Yet the effect was worth it.
The adventurers practically leaped to obey. Their eyes widened in surprise at their own eagerness, and Tiberius felt a momentary resistance as they instinctively fought back against the compulsion. But after seeing the situation and understanding Tiberius’s will, their jaws set.
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Burly warriors spun and charged the ghostly fortress with far more coordination than they’d shown previously. Those with shields lifted them high and moved shoulder to shoulder, forming a rough approximation of a mismatched shield wall as they moved. The front line barreled toward the priests defending their compatriots like the tip of a spear. The robed figures fought back ferociously as their skin, too, began burning away with holy light. But the mages that Tiberius had commandeered took the opportunity to strike them down with a hail of spells spaced perfectly to prevent dodging.
The adventurers broke through to the fortress and began hammering at it, weapons flashing as skills empowered their strikes. After one particularly impressive hammer blow from a hairy man built like an elephant, the wall of the ephemeral castle shattered and revealed the channeling priests within. The men were forced to cease their healing ritual in order to defend themselves against the onslaught.
Tiberius nodded in approval at the maneuver. Checking on the raven revealed that its broken wing was once more tenuously connected to its body, though still tenderly held. But the priests’ meddling hadn’t permitted any of the thing’s other injuries to heal. Thick, dark ichor dribbled down its flanks and mismatched legs in hissing streams.
He pointed at the abomination, drawing on the power of his crown once more. Another column of lightning streaked down from the clear skies above. More energy left the crown, lessening its buzzing even further. Yet he also felt it tingle unpleasantly against his brow, sending a subtle jolt of electricity through him as well.
The warning was clear. Jupiter was not to be commanded. Any assistance he provided was at his behest, not Tiberius’s.
Tiberius shivered. From the stories and myths he’d heard, he was lucky that the bolt of lightning hadn’t struck him down instead. The fact that he hadn’t meant that his role in this world may well be more important than he’d realized. Still, perhaps he would tread a bit more lightly when it came to enlisting the gods’ aid.
The lightning had done its job, though. The raven was flattened once more, allowing the Legionnaires to dart forward and begin working at the feathers once more. Between them and the adventurers behind, they continued to wear down at the abomination, splattering the ichor with sizzling black blood. Their assault on its joints began to bear fruit as sickly light leeched out of exposed cracks.
It screeched in fury. With a final desperate cry, it unleashed a veritable hurricane of feathers, carved stones, and glowing swords that forced the attackers back. It gave the bird just enough room to launch skyward once more. The raven’s movements were ungainly and it was clear that it no longer could move with the same alacrity as before. Yet it still persevered, its entire body glowing dangerously . The light gathered in its beak in the brightest display that Tiberius had seen so far, an orb of condensed energy that hurt to look at. Whatever it was planning, it wouldn’t be good.
“Lucius!” He shouted.
“The men are in place, emperor.” His aide answered without hesitation.
“Good. Fire at will.”
Something streaked across his vision. The raven screeched in pain as an explosion of ichor and feathers fountained from one wing. A second explosion followed moments later, targeting the other wing.
Tiberius looked toward the city wall. Focusing, he could just spot a pair of men manning one of the ballistae atop it as they loaded another bolt.
Aiming the weapon inside the city had taken several precious minutes, positioned as it was to fire outward. But now that it was here, the bird faced an entirely new level of threat. And with it having taken to the air, thoughtfully isolating itself? It was a prime target for the devastating weapons.
He smiled as it fired again, the bolt disappearing only to suddenly rematerialize inside the abomination. Another shot came from nearly the opposite direction as a second ballista came online. The bird's horrid screeches grew higher in pitch as it began to panic and flail, banking away to dodge the attacks. Yet it was too late. Between the damage it had already taken and its diminished ability to maneuver, it stood no chance of avoiding the massive bolts.
With a final crack, another feathered bolt appeared within its chest. The abomination fell abruptly silent. Three light seeping from every seam of its form flickered wildly, then dimmed.
Tiberius knew it was done. [Paths of Victory] fell silent. But a new problem immediately presented itself.
“Take cover!”
The massive form plummeted to earth like the moon itself crashing down—right onto the heads of the Legionnaires and adventurers below.
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