There are different kinds of bravery.

Bravery of youth, bolstered almost entirely by ignorance. Bravery of overwhelming pride, empowered greatly by ego. Bravery of unfair advantage, assured by the knowledge that the odds are weighted heavily in one's favor.

Yet, none of those are true bravery.

Such a pure title will forever be tied with the ugly combination of weak knees, ragged breath, piss, and vomit. Found only when someone knows full-well that they're going to die.

And yet, with gods as their witness: they still refuse to run.

Chapter 42

[Talia]

The powers of Faith and Mana left her bloodied hands, and the wounded soldier struggled back to his feet. His wounds had sealed, but just so. Just barely enough to stand and rejoin the others, she watched as the man limped back towards the shouts at the front of the group. As the heat of flames ripped through the overhead air, and the booming of giant footsteps shook the earth, she watched him duck, warily looking up at the rift in the clouds.

The backdrop of the true battle, sitting beyond their pitiful skirmishing, was growing worse.

Each impact shook the ground. Each collision sent stone flying, or redirected bouts of lightning, or green flames. Giant stone fists threw punches, smashing against bloodied scales. The clash of Gods was a fierce tempest, with violence raging ever closer.

Yet, for the mere-mortal defenders of the what was left of the city: another battle had begun.

“Keep them back!” Alem of the Farstrider Guild shouted from the northern side of the defensive force. Clearly visible, Talia watched him shout orders while standing atop rubble that had fallen from the walls. With great force, his hammer came down, glowing red-hot with an empowered ability, and a deafening "crack" as another Dwarven horror that had dared to leap forward was shattered down to its core. The scent of mana and burning filled the air, as several Mages behind him, blasted whatever remained back over a make-shift barricade of piled stones. “Keep fighting! Hold them at a distance! The hammer does not fall today!”

The Constructs had come from nowhere, and everywhere, all at once.

That was how they often operated, if Talia understood correctly. From what she knew, the Dwarven machines had a nasty habit of lying in wait, silent and still, until finally ambushing their targets. They would often use their unnatural shapes and forms for reach, and would move at great speeds to take down the unprepared. Just so, they had burst from the sands not a few hundred paces away from the city walls shortly after the Dragon was forced back. In rapidly moving packs, together the Constructs had attempted to swarm the unorganized defenses, in what appeared to be an effort to claw their way into the city during the confusion.

And they had almost succeeded.

Almost.

Alem's hammer crushed yet another of the horrible figures, and Talia felt the mace in her free hand seemed inadequate. While there were many Adventurers and Soldiers present, few seemed to hold a candle to the man, as he moved with brutal efficiency. for each glowing red core he crushed, Talia could swear he almost seemed to move quicker. That his attacks were becoming stronger...

With him at the lead, many were finding their footing. Shields in front, ranged attacks in back: The Constructs had failed in their initial attempt to break through, and were now somewhat repelled. Dancing about the outskirts of their formations, the remaining numbers seemed unwilling to commit to another attack. Not with the able-bodied defenders now, once again, holding their own, but also due to the fact that several frog Golem were still holding a forward position nearby. Their presence was a much needed bolster to the reforming defenses, as more and more injured who had called out for healing, were limping back into the fight.

Another tremendous explosion of magic ripped through the air, sweeping dangerously close to the wall, before two stone hands took the dragon by the neck, and slammed it backwards.

"Holy shit." Beside Talia, between a few small spells in the general direction of a group of Construct who had to scramble in order to dodge, Eveth seemed to be unable to do much other than stare.

Which was fair.

Well, Talia felt it was fair.

The statement, the staring, the awe.

Out west of the City of The Emperor, a battle of Gods was still afoot. What was happening out there was insanity itself, and Talia could see that Eveth was hardly alone in her wandering eyes. Everyone who had the freedom to stare, was doing so: watching, in stunned reverence, as the clash of giants sent visible shockwaves ripping across the sands.

What were humans supposed to do, when titans were battling?

When literal gods were throwing punches, the likes of which that sent brutal shockwaves rippling out across the plains, and blasts of lightning were being thrown off course by upper-cuts, only to continue upwards: tearing apart clouds and discolored the sky...

It was fitting.

Talia had to imagine, that back in ancient times, this must have been what it was like. Back in the forgotten ages, when nations of humans rose and fell, all within the confines of their borders. All those lives all held on the whims of whatever greater powers lurked beyond, entrapping mankind within unwanted lands. Where forces beyond reckoning might have acted to destroy them, should those powers only have felt motivated enough. Before the First King opened the Gates of Magic and granted his blessings upon all of mankind, before humanity could truly fight back, united beneath the banner of the Empire.

There was almost nothing that could have been done. And now, it was much the same.

Talia doubted that no one alive, short of the Emperor himself, could possibly hold a candle to what was occuring in front of them.

The battle raged.

Under a heavy hit, the massive stone Golem tumbled back, throwing waves of sand into the air, only for that same sand to be snatched away by powerful magics. The infinite grains quickly flowed inwards, sinking deep within the cracks of stone, healing the tremendous damage that seemed to be building on the Golem's arm- just in time for the Golem to intercept another blast of lightning. One that ripped apart a full mile of ground.

Gods were at war, and there was no army, no Emperor, and no Golden Fleet, to protect them. The pitiful forces they had gathered could hardly be considered a true battalion: just the remains of the city's defences, with some Mercenaries, and some Adventurers, mixed in. And that was before the lightning had struck down a portion of the wall.

Talia knew: This was a final hurrah. This was mankind's last hope, in a terrible situation.

As the Golem was sent backwards once more, she watched as its arm crumbled under thick teeth. With great effort, the Golem forced its opponent back, but unlike before, the sands that repaired the damage weren't nearly as powerful. Instead, a desperate bout of green fire ripped out from the Golem's chest, forcing a mighty wing to block. But as the fire died, the wing pulled away to reveal an arrogant glare.

There was no fear, there. No concern was evident, as the Dragon rushed forward, and Talia felt dread reaching down into her stomach, worming its way up into her chest.

Light help them.

The Dragon was winning.

While they were picking themselves back up, dusting themselves off, their only guardian was fighting for his life, and they were doing what?

Her dread was turning to rage, as she looked around at the dumbstruck faces.

"Are we really just going to stand here at watch?" Talia shouted. "Are we going to let these things stop us?" She pointed towards the Constructs.

She realized she might have spoken abruptly.

People were looking in her direction, now. Even Eveth had an incredulous expression.

"Talia..." Eveth couldn't seem to find the rest of the words she wanted to say, eyes dragged back to the battle in the distance. The backdrop of warfare on a scale humanity could barely comprehend.

"We need to help! For Light's sake, can't you see it? If he dies, so do we! If he fails here, every man, every woman, every child,will be lost! We need to act!" Another massive collision sent a horrible sound, as claws met stone, and the giant golem fell back. Enough was enough. Talia found her resolve, as she called on the Spirit. Through her armor, she felt the holy power swelling up. Around her feet, the sands began to spin.

"What in all the light are we supposed to do?" Someone nearby asked. "Those are Gods, out there. We'd be destroyed in an instant."

"Then we hit as hard as we can in that very instant!" Talia threw her mace to the ground as the sands continued to shift. The powers that lay within them were reaching, as she turned and marched towards the collapsed portions of the wall. She did her best to ignore all of those who jumped out of her way to let her through, as the spirit did its work.

"The price..."

"I'll pay it." Talia said through gritted teeth. "Now help."

Stone blocks were disintegrating, rubble was molding into dust. Sand was flowing out of her path, as the spirit reached towards the target of its divine will.

Then, it began to rise.

Surging from the ground, a new mounting fell in as a solid slab of stone. Talia felt her mana draining as she fell to a knee. Determined, she ripped one of Eveth's emergency potions from her belt, drinking the contents in a sudden motion, as the magic continued. Deep in her mind, the spirit seemed to vibrate.

"I thank you, faithful one."

A mana cannon broke free of the rubble, forming up as the stone lifted it into position. The sands rose up, repositioning the weapon with ease: directing it towards the fight. Curls of patterns carved into the newly formed blocks. Of battles fought, of battles won. Talia felt the warmth of Faith in her bones, as the images grew. The Megalodon speared, the skeleton broken...

She blinked, as a hand fell on her shoulder.

"Mages, you heard her! Get that cannon loaded!" Alem arrived at her side, shouting orders. "Careful now. You've done more than enough, Talia, but we can take it from here."

"No." Talia barely caught her footing as her vision swayed. "It's not nearly enough."

"Steady." Alem tried to catch her, but she pushed him away.

"I'm not the one who needs help." Talia grimaced, as the potion did its work. Around her, the city defenses were jolted back into motion. People rushed, in a belated attempt attempt to help stabilize the situation by the gate. Many were throwing themselves into pulling aside additional rubble. The damage had been excessive, and there was still healing and repair work being roughly thrown together, but they were back in motion. "We need to act."

There was another "crack" in the distance. The wounded arm from before, shattered, before a heavy swipe of a scaled tail threw the Golem to the ground.

It struggled to rise.

"Mages!" Alem shouted. "Move!"

"On it." Eveth replied as she rushed past, throwing her staff towards Alem as she approached the mana cannon.

Though several others had gathered, already laying hands on the rune-worked metal, many gasped in surprise as a pressure fell over the air. Talia saw her breath turn to mist as Eveth set her hands down, and the air around her warped.

It was like a haze had settled around her. Heat waves were practically rolling down her shoulders as the air vibrated and swam about, mana rising up in reaction to what was occuring.

The runes worked into the metal of the cannon began to glow.

"They're breaking through! We need help!" A shout rose up, and Alem cursed, rushing towards the disturbance.

The Constructs must have noticed what was happening, as they charged once more with renewed vigor. Talia saw a shower of blood, as the lines broke, and people fell. Several of the elongated figures leapt through, limbs spinning and piercing as they cut a swath of violence towards the cannon.

“We didn’t come out here to fail! Hold!” Alem shouted, as his hammer intercepted. With great effort, he managed to throw the first of their number back, then barely deflecting an attack from the second. “Hold!”

Spells flung through the air, almost alive as they twisted and turned to strike the incursion to their weakened refuge. Talia couldn't see mana, but she could see the ripples of its presence upon the air. The tell-tale sign of half-formed magics.

The front-most Construct spread its limbs wide, and simply took them. It's body cracked and shattered, as it blocked the attacks, holding out even as Alem brought his hammer down on its core.

Behind it, two more Constructs moved in, both jumping clear over Alem. Then, they moved in like arrows let loose from a bow: heading straight towards the cannon. Beside her, people yelled and screamed in panic. Weakened as she was, Talia could barely grasp at the spirit's power, but she managed to rush forward regardless, forming a shield just in time to block one of the oncoming threats. Thrusting her palm out, she let almost all her remaining magic free, shattering the creature's core as she fell to the ground gasping.

The cannon! She had to protect the cannon-

"Enough." Eveth growled. The Mage lifted a single hand from the cannon and made as grasping motion, and the remaining Construct's chest exploded with a terrible hissing scream, as it crumpled to the ground as if its strings had been cut.

It tumbling at the dirt just a step from the small gathering of Mages.

"...Wow." Talia swallowed, as she looked up at Eveth in wonder.

"Just a theory, huh? I'll show you a theory." Eveth muttered to herself, casually wiping away the blood now leaking from her nose. She either ignored, or overlooked, the many awed and horrified stares she was recieving. "Let's kill this fucking Dragon."

The cannon began to hum.

One by one, Talia watched the Mages working to power the weapon begin to slouch. Leaning against the metal, they barely seemed to be able to keep themselves standing. Only Eveth seemed to be able to remain as she was, lifting one hand free to drink a potion. Then, again, to drink another. The blood was running down from her nose again.

"Talia, I've got a request." Eveth spoke suddenly. "I need to borrow something from you."

"I already drank the potion."

"No, not that." The woman grimaced as the cannon hummed louder. Another Mage slumped against the metal. "That spirit you've been carrying around. Give it to me."

"No, Eveth. You shouldn't..." Regardless of her words, Talia felt the power in her chest respond.

Slowly, it formed as a ball of ghostly fire, which floated between them.

"There is a price, Mage."

"There's always a price." Eveth spit on the dirt, reaching out her hand towards it. "I don't care."

"You will likely not survive."

"I'll take my chances." As Eveth answered, in the distance, the massive Golem shuddered as it took a direct blast of lightning. The impact of which, that sent pieces of stone flying in all directions, landing like jagged spears across the plains. Barely standing, with its remaining arm, it threw a punch that caught the Dragon on the chin.

"So be it, faithful one."

The flame reached Eveth's palm, and she let out a thoughtful hum, before she pressed it down into the rune-worked.

"Ah, so this is what it's like." Eveth's expression broke from a grimace, into a wild grin. Then she began to laugh. The cannon began to visibly shake. Patterns seemed to be rising up from it, as more and more magic took to the air. Runes seemed to be drawn into nothing but the air itself, forming rings and rings ahead of the barrel, as the stone frame built around the cannon cracked and shuddered as it attempted to restrain the building power. More and more mana drew in, rushing up from the soil, from the air, from Eveth herself. More and more patterns interlocking like a complex framework built entirely from magic. "How many years have I spent, waiting for something like this?" Eveth shouted the question, as more and more rings of patterns appeared.

More and more rows formed, extending out before the cannon. Ten, then twenty, then thirty- more.

All around Talia, people watched. No longer looking at the battle in the distance. From the walltop, figures in Mage garb peered down, astonished shouts echoing down. The Constructs, the defenders, the very air itself, grew still.

"All of you bastards who call yourselves Archmages, remember this! My name is Eveth Gale! And you will spend the rest of your lives chasing even a fraction of what I've created!" Eveth threw her head back and shouted at the top of her lungs, magic carrying her voice as the humming grew louder. "Spirit! You go and tell your Master we're even!"

"Your name will never be forgotten, faithful one. You have my word."

"It better fucking not!" Eveth laughed loudly, as the humming from the cannon grew so loud that the sound was almost deafening. "Now, what was that stupid thing... ah. That's right." Her shoulders shook, as sparks flew, patterns warping in the air around her, sweeping her hat and cloak aside as she looked ahead with bright eyes.

"All hail the Tiny Snake God."

Then, with a burst of blinding light: the cannon fired.