Path of Dragons

Book 6: Chapter 101: The Second Battle of Ironshore

Colt rammed his sword into the dark elf’s gut before wrenching it free. Blood and intestines followed, filling the air with the smell of iron and human waste. To his nose, it was barely even noticeable. Not only had he been immersed in that smell for countless hours, but he had other things on his mind – like the arrow tearing through the air in his direction.

He whipped around, slicing the projectile out of the air.

But there were dozens more on their way.

“Retreat!” he shouted as he used Shield of Blades. His sword became a blur as he stood his ground, deflecting one arrow after another. The skill wasn’t perfect, and a couple of arrows made it through. Those slammed into his chest, but they were stopped by his armor. He knew it couldn’t last, though. He’d taken so many hits that even Carmen’s best work wouldn’t remain effective.

Blood dripped from a dozen wounds, and his long coat had been torn in a hundred different places. Even his sword, which was his second strongest piece of equipment, was chipped. The only piece of gear that remained unblemished by the battle was the Hand of Might, which had proved invaluable over the course of the battle.

As the archers in the street nocked more arrows, Colt backed down the alley, disappearing around the corner just as they unleashed another volley. Stone shattered upon impact, telling him just how powerful those projectiles were. If he was hit again, he would be severely wounded. And that was saying nothing of his small group of fighters – mostly Miners and other non-combatants. They would be obliterated, regardless of their comparatively high-quality armor.

So, as they’d been doing for the last day, they retreated, using their knowledge of Ironshore’s layout to their advantage.

The second Colt turned the corner, he sprinted, turning at preordained intervals. He’d memorized the city’s layout, so he didn’t even need to think as he followed the prescribed path. The pursuing dark elves had no such advantage, and they were forced to follow much more slowly. So, when Colt and his people reached their destination, they had plenty of time to climb the ladders, pulling them up behind them, and take up their positions.

It was a tactic they’d repeated a dozen times over the past twenty-four hours, and when the dark elves rounded the last corner, it proved just as effective as all the other times. The only reason it wasn’t even more devastating was because, when the militia members let loose with a volley of arrows of their own, they didn’t have the benefit of skills to back them up.

What they did have was high-grade bows and arrows, which sent those projectiles out with enough force to punch through the dark elves’ armor and inflict devastating wounds. Colt didn’t bother with a bow. Instead, he picked out the dark elf he deemed the strongest and let loose with Storm of the Sword Saint. A thousand blades manifested all at once, and they sliced through the dark elf’s heavy armor like it was no thicker than paper.

Blood misted into the air, followed by the sound of a dozen arrows falling upon the small troop of dark elves. Aside from the leader Colt had already slain, they were equipped only with leather armor. The result was predictable, and by the time the militia members let loose with the second volley, most of the dark elves had already fallen.

Colt leaped down, shouting, “Hold!”

His people were not well-trained, but two-dozen hours of constant fighting had given them plenty of experience. As a result, they obeyed his orders without hesitation.

Colt lashed out, decapitating one of the few unblemished elves. Then, he descended upon the wounded, dispatching them with ruthless efficiency. At one point, he might have considered taking prisoners, but the battle was far too desperate to worry about that. It was kill or be killed, and Colt had adapted his morals to suit that kind of battle.

So, he ignored the pleas for mercy as he brutally executed the rest of the elves.

Once that distasteful task was finished, he led his militia members through the maze of alleys and to the next destination. Upon reaching it, they settled in to wait for another troop of dark elves to arrive. It didn’t take long before a large group turned a corner and came into view. There were at least twenty of them, and at their head was a larger elf wearing the most elaborate armor Colt had yet seen. It was black, trimmed in silver, and bearing enough runes that even Colt, who was not a crafter, could recognize it as high-grade.

He shook his head at his people, then motioned for them to back away. He wanted to challenge the powerful elf, but his job wasn’t to satisfy his cravings for a good fight. He was on a mission of extermination. And if he engaged that larger group, there was a good chance that he’d lose some people. That risk was unacceptable, so after retreating deep into the alley, they settled in to wait for the troop of dark elves to pass.

It was not to be.

After a couple of minutes, an elven scout appeared at the head of the alley. Before Colt could close the distance, she let out a shout. He decapitated her a second later, but by then, the damage was done.

“Shit,” he growled. “Position three. Move!”

His group sprang into motion just before the heavy stomp of footsteps announced the impending arrival of the squad of dark elves. By the time they entered the alley, the militia members had rounded a corner and were sprinting away.

Colt held his ground, though.

He knew precisely how long it would take his people to reach safety, which meant that he needed to delay the dark elves for at least a few seconds. To that end, he raised his sword in one hand, while holding the Hand of Might in front of him like a shield. It was not his preferred fighting method – he liked fighting with two hands – but given his infirmity, he’d been forced to adapt.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The well-armored dark elf didn’t lead the way. Instead, he followed a wave of melee fighters that swarmed Colt after only a couple of seconds. Just like that, the battle was engaged, and the Samurai accounted himself well, killing two in the blink of an eye. A few seconds later, and the first wave was down. Injured, but not dead.

“Leave this upstart to me!” announced the armored elf as a large spear suddenly appeared in his gauntleted hands. He stepped forward and adopted a fighting stance. “Attack me if you dare, weakling.”

Colt had no intention of doing that, and not just because his goal had nothing to do with winning a fight. He was just buying time, so the longer he delayed the elves, the better chance there would be for his people to get to safety. In addition, a swordsman fighting against a spearman was a match-up that definitely didn’t favor him. Sure, there were ways to get through, but the additional reach of the weapon meant that he would be at a distinct disadvantage.

So, he held his ground, silently waiting for the elf to make the first move.

“Are you a coward, then? Slinking in the shadows? You –”

Just then, something big and metal rammed into the back lines of the elven troop. The second Colt recognized how effective that distraction was, he sprang forward. The dark elf leader had only glanced backward for a brief second, but that was enough to allow Colt to advance to within its guard. After that, the dark elf was scrambling to regain his advantage.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Colt didn’t allow it, keeping up the pressure until, at last, he found paydirt when he slashed into the elf’s elbow joint. The gap between the armored plates was small, but Colt was more than dexterous enough to guide his blade into that tiny opening. He nearly severed the elf’s arm, but was forced to pull back before he completed the job. It was either that or catch a hastily drawn dagger to the face.

He danced back, pleased to see that the dark elf’s arm had gone limp.

In the meantime, he recognized the identity of the new arrival.

Carmen was an unstoppable force as she battered the dark elves with her great hammer. They couldn’t stand up to her momentous barrage, and their weapons were entirely incapable of penetrating her armor. The results were as predictable as they were satisfying.

The leader saw that as well.

“Quarter! I surr-”

Carmen’s hammer crunched into his side, caving in his high-quality armor with a single blow. Meanwhile, Colt stepped forward and thrust his blade into the gap beneath the elf’s helmet.

Like all the others, he died only a moment later.

“Status?” Colt asked, stabbing the other fallen elves. They begged for mercy, just like their leader, but he paid their pleas no mind.

“Retreat to the stronghold. The battle in the rest of the city is not going well,” Carmen said, mimicking Colt’s actions. The thud of her hammer was far more disturbing than the relatively silent blade.

“We’re makin’ a last stand?”

“There are tens of thousands of them out here. It won’t be long before they occupy the whole city,” Carmen said. “The only chance is to hold out long enough that they will negotiate the surrender of the city. For that, we need a position of strength. The stronghold is the best option.”

Colt shook his head. The stronghold in question was the refitted government building. The city’s Tradesmen had spent quite a lot of time and effort bolstering its defenses. The results were impressive – almost as strong as the walls – but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Still, they didn’t have a choice. The elves were everywhere out there. Perhaps he and Carmen could punch through and escape, but neither had even considered abandoning the city.

“Last stand, then,” he said. “S’pose that’s as good a way to go as any other.”

* * *

General Rham D’vix stood atop the wall, glaring at the city below. “Report,” he ordered the soldier standing behind him.

“Over ten thousand dead, my lord,” the scout replied. “Nearly twice that wounded. The Healers are working to get them back into battle. The natives have retreated to the fortress at the center of the city. Its defenses are all but impregnable, at least I the short term.”

D’vix clenched his fist, but he let his frustrations show as he said, “Very well. Dismissed.”

Taking the city known as Ironshore was supposed to have been an easy chance for glory as well as his people’s foothold on the surface. From there, they would spread out across the region, conquering one city after another as they established themselves as the preeminent force on Earth.

It should not have been necessary. The original plan when they’d come to the recently-touched world was to take control of the Hollow Depths, where they could gather strength for a few decades before venturing topside. That had proven impossible, forcing the colonizers to seek other options.

D’vix frowned – it was only a slight change of expression, but for anyone that knew him, it spoke volumes. How were they to know that the Hollow Depths would be so dangerous? If the humans and other surface dwellers thought that life in the sun was difficult, then they would have been horrified to see what lurked below. Even the Illythiri, who others referred to by the crude label of dark elf, were incapable of anything but holding their ground.

Venturing topside was the only answer.

And now, they struggled to take a city of crafters. It was galling.

From the very beginning of the assault, when they’d encountered that nearly impregnable wall, D’vix knew they had a fight on their hands. However, he could not have expected that every step would be plagued by traps and fighters engaging in guerilla tactics.

Thousands were dead, and he suspected it would take quite a few more sacrifices before they accomplished their goal. The only solace was that the city’s residents had been forced to retreat. Certainly, taking that stronghold would be difficult. It would take some time to drown out the rats. But at last, victory was almost assured.

Once they had the city, they would enslave the residents – after making a few examples, of course – then put them to work. Their equipment was surprisingly high-quality, so at least they could make armor and weapons to assist with the Illythiri’s rise to prominence.

More importantly, the rest of the Illythiri nation could finally emerge. Hundreds of thousands of people would finally be safe from the threats of the Hollow Depths.

Just as D’vix was on the verge of giving another set of orders to his nearby officers, he received a notification that twisted his stomach into knots:

The Trial of Primacy is complete. As you welcome home your heroes, please be advised that the following systems are now active: Communication System Local Market Global Teleportation Network To opt into these systems, please visit your local Branch and pay the appropriate fees before establishing your settings with your local Envoy of the World Tree.

D’vix’s heart jumped into his throat. By everyone’s calculations, they still had a few days before the Trial was supposed to have completed. It was why they’d chosen to launch their attack so soon – even though they could have used a little more preparation.

But it didn’t matter. Even if the Trial-takers returned, they wouldn’t be powerful enough to defeat an army of thousands. No one was that strong.