Small update people. I am almost done with this chapter but it was 12k words. I am splitting it. (Again.) So you get that last chapter of this arc tomorrow. You know the drill.

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Decisions IV - A desperate stand

A shriek of agony tore into the night like a wolf into its prey. Blood dripping from his gut, a scout wrestled with the enemy’s dagger as he raised the alarm. It reached the hilltop before his blood soaked the grass and returned with a cacophony of defiance.

“They have come!” Halkone bellowed , “Huddle up!”. The line of guards beside him burst into action, raising their shields and swords in a close-knit formation. They stood upon the slope where the caravan rested, facing the side that opened to the road. The hilltop itself guarded their blind side along with a makeshift barricade of wagons where the archers, including Boris, hid. Between them were a handful of mages, some of them passengers.

Elaine earlier guessed the main assault of the enemy would come up here. Elaine guessed right. The terrain was easier to navigate here, and the dense thickets provided good cover against the top. It also gave the enemy the advantage of cutting off their retreat.

Boris felt the disturbance in the air grow stronger and breathed out, trying to calm himself. It was difficult to feel for intruders when half the men around him were seething with killing intent. He relaxed and withdrew his will. If he could not find the enemy, then he would rather the enemy too did not find him. From his perch, upon a rocky outcrop, he watched Elaine bark orders.

“Barrier’s up!” Elaine demanded. A small group of mages responded by shaping up a large barrier spell. A storm of fire and lightning clashed against it the next moment, rousing the dark forest in flickers and flashes. Cinders and ashes scattered across the the wind while charred splinters sprang from tottering trees. The assault died down into a slow burning trail of smoke and resonating cries of the enemy mages.

“Hold!” Elaine shouted again and the mages persevered. A second shower of fire and lightning spells descended. They thundered as they bounced off the barrier and scuttled across the ground with a discontent rumble, raising a cloud of dirt and debris and shearing the grass into burnt shreds.

“Hold!” Elaine commanded. The mages obeyed.

As the third shower of spells boomed against the barrier spell, Boris could make out the forms of their enemies in the flashes. He was sure it was the same for the other archers too. Had Elaine been waiting for this?

“Now!” Elaine commanded and the mages relented on their spells. Guards raised torches into the night and a flurry of arrows swept the air the same moment the magic barrier dispelled. The sudden switch to offensive took the enemy by surprise and a few of them fell in the first volley itself, much to Elaine’s satisfaction.

“Halkone!” Elaine pointed and the Scythian raised a huge war cry. The frontline split immediately and ran in four different directions, evading the last shower of enemy spells that scoured the hillside to raise a havoc. From behind the chao s, a host of angry growls unfurled. Monsters leapt across the slope with hungry jaws and furious glares, eager to chew through everything before them. The cultist forces spread behind the monsters in an attempt to pincer them and crossed the two frontline groups led by Halkone and Kale just as Elaine’s mages prepared their next spell.

“Hit them!” Elaine cried at the mages and they fired the next spell. A mound of earth rose out the hillside two feet into the air. The stampede of monsters collided legs first into the obstruction and scrambled over each other as they fell. The second crop of arrows fell into the monster horde with deadly precision and evoked a chain of howling that added to the mayhem.

‘Zero casualties so far,’ Elaine calculated while the mages retreated. Two of the four frontline groups retreated along with them, forming a perimeter as they rushed towards the barricade of wagons. ‘But this is it,’ she regretted. There was no accurate count of the enemy and their own men would fall anytime now.

To Elaine’s sides, the other two frontline groups led by Halkone and Kale each, dove into the enemy force from the sides and rushed for the mages. Halkone pushed through like a boar, uprooting trees and men alike while five others followed him. His spirit surged through his muscles in brazen eagerness, craving for strength.

Halkone killed two mages with a heavy swing of his sword as the first of his guards fell behind him. “Onwards!” he roared and hurled a third mage across the slope to darkness beyond. A spell struck his back and ripped his skin bare. As Halkone turned to smash the culprit, two more swords sliced gashes in his legs. Halkone bashed a few heads in retaliation.

“Take his followers out first!” a warrior cried ahead of Halkone.

“Do not pause!” Halkone yelled and slashed apart that warrior’s head. They tore through the enemy force in feverish agitation, never stopping. A blood-dripping Halkone emerged out of the carnage with a vehement roar and found Kale's force of guards close behind.

“Kale!” he called and Kale nodded. They came back to back and faced the enemy's rear. Kale looked at their combined forces. “Eight left out of fifteen,” he said, “this is going better than I thought. Now let's rip them to shreds.”

As if denying his optimism, a second force emerged out behind them with a defiant roar. Spells went up in the air again as Halkone swore wide eyed and the next swath of monsters approached. “Seven hells! Where did they get so many?”

Fimberhounds leapt at them with drooling mouths and fellynxes prowled around with angry leers. These beasts were not all nocturnal but that didn't make them any less dangerous. Supported by another force of mages and warriors, they could be led right into the target.

Kale leapt into the air, using the hounds as footstools, and dived into the enemy mages behind. Halkone and his men followed suit. They hacked through the limbs and backs, splattering blood and gore. “Steady!” Halkone commanded and slammed a fimberhound against the ground, squashing it dead. Fire grazed his hair before and evoked a groan as his fellow man fell and he rushed ahead, through the monsters and into the warriors’ spears that protected. “Focus on the men!” Halkone ordered, and slaughtered two spearmen with a heavy swing of his sword. His subordinates obeyed, ignoring the monsters who rushed up the hill in blind haste.

‘I hope you're prepared girly,’ Halkone thought of Elaine and eyed the enemy mages. If he emerged alive, he would have a drink on Lady Luck. If he emerged dead... well then, Lady Luck would have a drink on him.

Uphill, the central force of guards and mages braved the enemy advance with growing desperation. Elaine expected the enemy to have fallen into disarray by now. But the appearance of a second force farther down crushed her wish. ‘Nothing ever goes my way,’ she lamented. It was quite possible for her to kill each man here, but to save even half was beyond the realm of hope.

“Archers on your own!” Elaine barked and slipped into the battlefield. She’d warned Boris to steer clear of trouble. To take Thea and run if things went downhill. ‘Well,’ Elaine smirked, looking down at her enemies, ‘things are going downhill one way or other.’

Elaine swept into the enemy force, glowing. She sliced into the limbs and flanks while clobbering the rear mages with her own spells. The entire enemy force stood glued to her like moths to a flame. At every space she faced, there was a person eager to fight her.

‘Are these people retarded or something?’ Boris grimaced as he shot an enemy from behind. The arrow struck the shoulder and the enemy spun in surprise, only to be stabbed from behind. Boris exhaled and calmed his jittery hand, giving no thought to his conundrums. There were parts of his mind cringing from the show of violence and parts of his mind yearning for escape.

‘Stop thinking!’ Boris decided. He pulled another arrow taut against the bowstring. His breath eased, his mind emptied and his eyes narrowed. The enemy was slow and predictable, like the world around him.

With a slow breath, Boris slackened, eyes rooted at one particular head, and released the bowstring. His arrow hit the shoulder again, his arm skewed the very last moment. The wind? Or his aim? At barely thirty feet, these were poor excuses for missing. Boris fumbled and nocked another arrow. He shunned his wavering heart and forced his mind empty. He aimed again.

The rising clamor of angry growls interrupted his aim as Boris witnessed another pack of monsters, from fellynxes to fimberhounds, scrambling uphill. Guards now struggled beside the barricade’s support and would soon break down. He traced the line of wagons to the far end, beyond which the merchants and other passengers stayed hidden in a recess. If the barricade broke, it wouldn't end with a few deaths.

‘But what to do!’ Boris hesitated. ‘Smokescreens, useless. Stinker's balls, worthless.’ He saw Elaine sever the enemy with massive swings of her glowing scepter. Light attracted the beasts. Could she deal with so many at once?

“Boris run!” Elaine hollered when she noticed him so near the enemy force. Boris broke out of his trance with a jerk. A slash nicked his flank. He cringed, horrified to find himself face to face with enemies.

‘Oh shit!’ He ducked under the swordsman’s blow and glimpsed the encroaching beasts. ‘I can only run,’ he cursed, the blade ripping his quiver’s harness. He threw the quiver at the swordsman and backtracked. ‘Think! Think! Think!’ The blade ran slick into the air with a whinnying wind as Boris remembered Elaine’s words.

And don’t provoke anything outside either. It will come running for your blood before you know it

‘Need to run,’ Boris affirmed. He clutched the burning wound . The sword swung back in an upward slant. And Boris vanished from its sight. His weight sent him crouching and his will spiraled out. The swordsman balked while Boris swept a leg under him. He tottered and Boris spun, kicking his gut full force. The man choked as he toppled back into Elaine’s scepter and died.

‘Screw this!’ Boris squeezed his legs' mana veins and lunged foot first into the throng below. Heads swiveled under his feet as he bounced, arcs of blood trailing him. Boris flailed and contorted his will as much as he could. His mind reeled with annoyance and pain. Then Boris sprang out of the enemy force, bruised but alive, and landed before the invading monsters. And with a sneer, he stormed his will out.

A wave of annoyance swept over the hill like an overflowing sewer, muddled with pain and frustration. It hit everything alive with a sharp provocation and a stabbing headache. The startled monsters monsters squealed in agony, the fighting humans grouched in pain.

“Who the hell!” somebody cried and turned towards Boris. “Get over here you asshole!” Boris laughed brazenly and tossed a dozen stinker's balls all around, adding to the annoyance with the stench. Then he pressed his screaming will even harsher, drawing frenzied noises from humans and monsters alike.

“Well, little pricks, come and get me!” he cried as he fled, his legs pumping strength madly. The monsters stalked after him in blind rage but the enemies stayed behind, caught in a brawl they could not yet abandon.

Boris scuttled down the slope in a twisted path. He slithered between trees and roots, ignoring the growls that stalked him. A fireball crashed the tree ahead. Boris ducked and twisted away. Embers scorched his back as he leapt for grass and rolled down between a jutting boulder and leaning trees. Sickles cut into the ground behind and shredded the grass. Screaming, Boris lunged away and hit another trunk. His will screamed with him, stabbing everything he could feel. His swiveling sight found balance as he skid under the branches, beckoning his stalkers through the endless maze. Very soon, he would reach where Halkone should have been.

Monsters leapt downhill towards Halkone as he crushed another enemy with irritation. They were down to three men now, him, Kale and another. But rather than face the enemy, he was more inclined to beat the life out of whoever it was that had been assailing their heads. The enemy was the same. Just moments ago, they were exchanging blows with the weight of their very souls. Now they were flapping arms around and searching for the scoundrel who should've been nearby.

Suddenly, the enemy chief jerked. He noticed the monsters and found the object of his ire running around like a monkey. “Kill that bastard!” his sword pointed, he roared at his fellow men.

“Yeah! Kill that little shit!” Halkone agreed. Then realized it was Boris. “Oh wait!” He swung the bastard sword upward, hefting a spearman in reckless slaughter. Blood washed him as his own fell. Now it was just him and Kale. They both faced each other in a rare moment of understanding and decided to slip out.

“Incoming!” Boris cried as he rushed into the enemy force. He did not need to. A hail of arrows and spells was already headed his way. “Bloody shit!” Boris regretted and pivoted into a curve, shirking from the enemy assault and provoking them further. A couple of arrows and spells grazed him. His tattered clothes ripped open to the cold wind, soaked in blood.

‘Do something! Plan! Plan!’ Boris blabbered in pain as he scampered for cover behind the trees and was blown away by a burst of lightning, crashing into the horrid grass. He struggled to his feet even as the monsters gained behind him with bloodshot eyes.

‘Damn! Damn! There’s gotta be- right!’ Boris spewed a mouthful of grass and dirt and reverted to the enemy. He tossed the handful of smokescreens before the eager enemy and felt for the monsters behind. A desperate wave of his will drove the monsters furious as they rushed into the cloud of smoke ahead. Boris sprinted, skidding into the smoke, and eased his will back within. One moment, two moments, and he was gone... his presence vanished.

The fury of his pursuers however, was not so easily calmed. The monsters and the enemies dove into the smokescreen in mad frenzy and skewered each other. Screams and howls intensified inside the smoke and curses resounded once it cleared. Half the monsters lay dead upon the ground but Boris was not among them.

“What the hell! Where is that—

The enemy chief's head streaked through the air before he could complete those words, and rolled into the growing pile of dead men.

“Enemy head just lost his head!” Halkone roared from behind the enemy force and strode. A discrete Kale joined him. There were just two dozen men left now and it was a fair gamble for life. Apparently.

As Boris emerged from within the bushes and sneaked away, he heard a growl and found out that not all monsters were so easily dissuaded. There were a couple of fimberhounds behind him, their collars glowering red, and by their smug snort, Boris knew they picked up his scent.

“Um, hi there, do you believe we could—

Boris turned tail and ran. Between their drooling mouths and their glistening teeth, he had no mind to think up a counterplan. Maybe if there was a marsh here. But of course there wasn't!

After leading the monsters around another curve, Boris decided not to run up the hill. He was approaching his limits. A hammering heart and a throbbing head agreed. ‘I can't run much longer,’ he realized with a growing panic and cramping legs.

‘Need to outrun them, need something, any-bloody-thing—’ as Boris watched a growing crowd of monsters stalking him again, his eyes fell on the fimberhound at the front, it's metallic collar still glowering red. If collars were control devices then— ‘No, no more crazy,’ Boris dithered as his pace started to fall.

“Well,” Boris gasped, his eyes burning, “just a little maybe.”

The fimberhound leading the hunt found Boris within his range and lunged for him voraciously. Boris twisted to evade the claws and clasped the fur with a wild jump at the fimberhound's back. A short struggle saw him grappling with the monster's jaws as it growled and ran astray, trying to overthrow Boris.

Boris flailed one moment before clasping his thighs against the fimberhound. He dug his head into its struggling neck. His right clamped the monster’s back and his left seized the collar. Searing pain ruptured through his hand. The collar sparked and burst part, leaving Boris moaning for his burnt hand. The fimberhound found this moment opportune to tackle him into the tree and toss him aloft.

As Boris found himself airborne, he caught a glimpse of the confused fimberhound wobbling while it rolled into the grass. Then he witnessed a second pack of hounds right behind. It didn’t work the way he wanted, he grieved. But he would make do with that.

Aching legs landed Boris into the grass with strenuous effort. Unsteadily, he lurched towards the un-collared fimberhound. He grasped it by the neck again and stared into his eyes, forcing his will upon it. “Well buddy,” Boris forced a smile on his cramped face and pointed at the monsters behind, glowering with rage. “If we are going down,” he stressed, “we are going down together. Or we could run.

It was not clear if the fimberhound understood Boris's threat or realized the pinch itself, seeing a dozen crazy hounds in pursuit. But the fimberhound ran as if its very life depended on escape and indeed, it did.

Boris goaded the monster through twists and turns with his working hand. It was a lot easier without the reins. Together, they fled down the hill and right into the enemy remnants once again.

“Not again!” Boris cursed, looking back and forth between his problems. “How did I forget this?”

“He is here!” a warrior roared and Boris smacked that head while urging the fimberhound into a leap. They landed right across Halkone who was too busy parrying the enemy strikes to care. The enemy cared and lost his arm to Halkone's slash.

“Oi don't tell me,” Halkone parried a strike from behind and bashed against another man upfront, taking a moment to realize Boris, “you are bringing them crazies again!”

“Not my fault!” Boris retorted. He located a mage conjure a fireball. The fimberhound jumped while Boris fell and rolled upon the ground. Rocks tore gashes into his back as Boris evaded the spell and passed right below the mage's legs. He landed a nice, clean blow. The mage frothed and fell unconscious.

Scampering away, Boris struggled through a berserk slash of swords by weaving through them, losing his belt and strands of his hair in the process.

“Little hound!” Boris shouted, sweeping his will around, “where are you?” He found it just as killing intent spiked behind him. Boris bent over in alarm. A spear thrust above him and he shuddered. He felt another man and rolled over twice. Daggers gouging the air in his wake and he slumped back. Metal clanged against metal in a deafening screech. Boris smelled charred flesh and balked. Sparks fell upon his wounded back. It was painted in a dozen red gashes by now but his life was far more precious than his skin. He noticed the fimberhound just ahead.

Planting his hand at the ground, Boris kicked an enemy behind and cartwheeled in the air, falling upon the fimberhound and goading it on.

“Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop!” he pleaded as more thrusts and slashes nicked his sides. He swerved each instant, predicting the attacks but impeding the fimberhound's movement. The monster growled in displeasure. Boris clucked his tongue in retort, using a moment to kick the warrior before them. “Stop complaining alright! I'll treat you to a meal if we live through this!”

The fimberhound snorted but agreed, or that is what Boris felt it did. For the next instant, it breathed fire upon the enemies, making them withdraw in caution and rushing through the gap created. “That's how you do it!” Boris praised and tossed the last smokescreen into the crowd behind.

Smoke engulfed the enemy as the monsters approached. Having met the same fate once, they dispersed out of the area and thinned out instead of greeting the monsters. Halkone and Kale greeted them one by one with the swing of blades and stab of daggers. Of the entire enemy force, only two remained at last.

“Well I'd say the odds are even now!” Halkone announced, breathing heavily and grasping his sword with both hands now. His augmentation had worn off a while ago but tenacity kept him alive.

“I wonder,” Kale disagreed and pointed to the horde of monsters that picked the last two members without a pity, tearing them to shreds.

“Yeah, let's just run,” Halkone agreed and they strode back up the hill as best as they could, leaving the monsters to chase after Boris. It was the least he deserved.

The monsters drifted out of the smoke and back on his trail when Boris decided he had better leave this last lot to Elaine. Hopefully she was done with the other enemies by now. He spurred the fimberhound back up the hill and raced between the trees and rocks with concentration.

Elaine Sithe felled the last cultist by parting his abdomen halfway through and pushing him down. He fell into the lifeless heap of bodies behind him as Elaine turned in haste to look for Boris. ‘That stupid stupid,’ she cursed. Pushed against the broken barricade, she could not afford her way out of the tussle to give Boris chase. When he came back she would give him a well deserved earful. When he came back... yes, he would.

“Lady Elaine!” one of the remaining guards shouted for her. Elaine turned in frustration to see the injured man pointing below her, where a wounded Boris emerged, riding a fimberhound. She froze as he hurried at her in panic.

“Elaine, there's a few more coming after me!” Boris skirted around her back, leaving her to face the monsters in pursuit. Elaine slackened and jumped down. She would smack him later for this.

The first light of dawn spread when Elaine faced the last of monsters. Her woven hair billowed gold in the westward wind and her scepter sharpened itself once again into a blade of light. She sliced through the collars of monsters in rapid, precise strikes. It left some wounded and some dead but most scurried off the moment their collars were torn apart.

Once she was done, Elaine looked at Boris with a piercing glare. “You have some explaining to do,” she said, but then turned around to see the aftermath of battle around her. The wounded needed looking after and the dead needed a burial. “I guess it can wait,” she concurred with Boris's drained face and called for the remaining guards to begin relief work.

________________

Halkone emerged at the hilltop the same moment a flare went off to their south and his addled mind rang a perfunctory alarm.

The merchants were in trouble.

“Dragon's turd!” Halkone cursed as all at the hilltop realized what the flare meant. Elaine was the first to rush forth and Boris followed soon after on a fimberhound, the third being a reluctant Halkone who augmented speed. A few others dragged their feet afterwards but never made it in time.

South of the hill was an abrupt cliff that ended in a perilous bed of rocks. It did not offer good footholds or cover, except for a recess where Elaine had hidden the merchants, passengers and six strong guards. In case the enemy decided to march up there, they would have fallen to a one sided assault. If the enemy sent reinforcements, Elaine would have done the same. It worked out well. Until now, that is.

Even Elaine did not expect the Cult to have a wyvern. They had two.

It might have been that these beasts were diurnal. Nobody wanted to ride a blind wyvern. But that part of luck ran out as soon as sunlight flooded in. Elaine watched as one of the wyverns pounced upon the hillside and lopped up two terrified guards, ripping them apart with its sharp teeth. Its thorny tail swiped through the air in fury as it flapped large, webbed wings to work up a shallow upthrust.

“Give us the elf!” a woman on the wyvern cried. “Give her to us and we will leave!”

The second wyvern pounced after first and plucked a wailing merchant in his jaws, then gnashed apart his limbs with a ruthless crunch of bones. “Give us the elf if you want to live!” the man upon the wyvern repeated.

“The only thing you will get here,” Elaine barked, bringing attention to herself, “is death!” She fired a streak of lightning the grazed the woman narrowly and left a wound upon the wyvern's wing. The creature snarled and leapt for Elaine. Elaine sliced the wounded wing into two as the wyvern's claws dug into her. The creature rammed into the ground but clawed harder into her limbs. As the wyvern rolled over the hillside and fell, it pulled a startled Elaine along.

Boris gaped in shock as Elaine fell over the edge and a woman leapt off the dying wyvern to the ground ahead. “No!” he cried. His frantic arms urged the fimberhound to rush. The beast obeyed but never caught up, felled midway by the enemy who just appeared. Boris lost balance and crashed into the ground in a daze. A bloody cough spat out of his dirt-choked mouth as he glared at the woman before him. His mana tree pulsed a violent wave of rage through his body.

“You are [email protected]!?(/

A sudden blow dislocated the woman's jaw mid-speech and her desperate hands went to her face the same moment Boris attacked her flank. She choked in agony while Boris hit her ankles with a sharp kick. As her legs flailed and her body groveled in pain, Boris kneed her abdomen with all his strength and clutched her throat.

“What did you do?” he asked. His bloodshot eyes stared into her scared face. “What the hell did you do!” he roared and dragged her towards the edge.

“Leave her now!” Leroth, the man on the other wyvern, threatened. Boris stared back at him. “Sure,” he sputtered and flung the woman over the hillside, letting her drop to death the way she did to Elaine.

“You bastard!” Leroth howled, “You think you have won this? We have an army here!” He looked slightly into the distance where the Cult's hideout was, disguised under a hill. And even as he watched, that hill exploded. A show of fire and smoke went up into the grey sky as the earth shook in alarm, adding the color of doom to his fiery eyes.

“You mean you had an army?” Boris replied with a sardonic scowl. How he wished he could just fly and rip that man apart. Make him beg for life. And then crush his heart. Why did Elaine have to die just because of these crazed fanatics?

The cultist tried to aim for Boris but noticed Thea trying to crawl out of the recess and mistook her for the elf trying to escape. He bent over and grabbed the girl, restraining her while she struggled in defiance. Then he slowly spurred the wyvern onward.

Halkone reached the hilltop to find another man atop a soft-bred Kinberg wyvern and Thea captured beside him. “I have the elf now,” the man declared with a cruel smile.

“Oi what is going on here?” Halkone asked, looking from Boris to the wyvern. “Why do they have a Kinberg? And collared no less?”

The cultist frowned at the sight of Halkone and noticed more guards approaching. It was time to retreat, he decided, but his hideout was no more. A small pause occurred to the wyvern's flight as the cultist wondered where to go. Simultaneously, Boris ran towards Halkone at a terrifying speed.

“Halkone!” Boris cried as he squeezed his mana veins despite a queasy heart. Somehow, the Scythian understood him without words. Halkone augmented the last of his strength as his body swelled. “You have only got one chance at this!” he roared.

“Once is enough!” Boris responded, extorting even more strength from his muscles. He lunged at Halkone and the Scythian grabbed his leg firmly. For an instant, they both felt a jolt of pain run through their bodies. Then Halkone launched Boris into the air with the speed of an arrow.

“...grant me strength beyond numbers!” Boris heard Halkone recite in a weird tongue. The next moment, he was riding the wind.

The cultist watched agape as Boris came flying for him. In a desperate maneuver, he tried to steer the wyvern away. Then he felt something strong grasp at his mind and pull him back towards Boris.

“Come here!” Boris shouted, pressing his will against the wyvern's in rage. The monster leapt back for him with ravenous jaws but Boris evaded narrowly, colliding head on with its rider. They both fell across the wyvern’s back and scrambled for foothold.

“You bloody!” the cultist cried as he tried to shove Boris off the wyvern but failed. “I'll push the girl!” he threatened while they wrestled upon the flailing wyvern.

“Let's see you do it!” Boris countered. “Someone will catch her, but you're going down.” He parried the man's blow and dove instead towards the wyvern's head, clutching its collar. With another spark and a horrifying jolt of pain through his burnt arm, Boris found the collar burst apart. The wyvern began to sway without control.

“No, what have you done!” the cultist cried as the spinning wyvern compelled him to cling for dear life. Thea freed herself with a start and Boris pulled the girl while he clutched the now confused wyvern's neck with his burnt hand. He would take it down.

“Land!” Boris pressed his will against the wyvern but the monster screeched in displeasure, trying to throw them off its back. As each person grabbed for safety upon the squirming wyvern, Boris stressed his exhausted will against the wyvern's growing defiance. “Land!” he smashed against its mind and tried to crush it. A disgruntled wyvern swerved blindly before it hit the ground and toppled, throwing three people across a dozen feet. It then scrambled to its feet with a violent shake its snout and stormed off into the daylight.

His head bleeding and his ears ringing, Boris forced himself up against the dizziness. He felt cold and disconcerted. A landscape of red twirled through his burning eyes. Within his shaky vision, the cultist now held a blade against Thea's neck, shouting threats and profanities.

Fresh blood appeared on his lips as Boris bit them in vexation. He did not care anymore. He took a step forward and the man retreated. He looked at the man draw a line of blood across Thea's cheek, yelling. Boris did not heed those words. He needed to kill, to let these bastards go to hell. They needed to pay. For taking hostages. For killing Elaine!

Boris did not watch Halkone rush towards him. He did not notice the few remaining guards come up the hill. He did not even see the terrified face of Thea. He only saw the enemy's dagger swing through the air and marched right into it.

The dagger aimed at Thea dug into his arm as Boris blocked it. He did not flinch while his flesh writhed in agony at the touch of metal. Pain was starting to lose its meaning inside the swirls of his mind. His strength was failing him. But not yet. He was not done.

The metal dagger streaked across the across the air with a burst and Boris sneered at the terrified Leroth. Boris pressed Leroth's retreating foot into the ground and clenched his throat in one swift movement. The cultist panicked and drew a second dagger, trying to stab Boris in the chest. The dagger missed its mark as Boris caught Leroth's thrust with his wounded left and twisted it back towards the man deftly. While Leroth struggled to release his arm, Boris pulled his neck in and let his foot go. Leroth fell with a jerk into his own dagger, impaling his throat upon that blade.

Blood spurted all around as Leroth thrashed about in horror. Boris felt the warm fluid paint him blind. He felt the enemy squirm under his hands and shake violently. He felt the enemy weaken and die. Only then did Boris let him fall to the ground, silently.

What a tasteless vengeance it was. It left him hollow. Wanting. He should have broken a few bones before he killed the man. Should have lit him up in flames!

Between the screams of his mind, Boris noticed Thea upon the ground and approached her.

“No!” she cried with a look of horror and desperation.

“Thea we need to—

“No!” She shrunk back and batted away his hands. Why was she being so annoying? Was it his hands? Boris looked at his hands and found them stained crimson. Did he do something wrong? He did not know. His mind was not working the way it should have.

“I am sorry,” he told Thea unwittingly, wiping his hands upon his tattered clothes.

“No!” she cried again.

“Yeah,” he agreed, feeling her will. “Yeah, you're right. I'll– I'll just leave you to the others.”

Weakness spread through his body as Boris turned and fell to his knees. The pain did not return. His body felt numb. His mind refused to make sense. It boiled with bitterness and hatred. Boris ignored Halkone's pleas and crawled over to the hillside, peering down the cliff. Blood left a trail down where Elaine fell. It ended far below in a scene of death. He could not even recognize those bodies.

“What are you looking at?” Halkone asked behind him, “You need to rest now. It's over.”

“Over?” Boris asked with red eyes and quivering lips. “Elaine's dead!” he tried to yell but his heaving chest could barely spare a murmur. Halkone showed a face of confusion. Boris wanted to smash that useless face in. He wanted to—

“Are you talking about me?” An unreal voice fell on his ears.

Boris turned and gawked at the figure that appeared behind Halkone. Her face unharmed, her limbs intact, Elaine stood glowing in the sun. Boris grabbed Halkone's legs frantically and crawled his way up to standing position. Then he limped his way towards the ghost of Elaine.

“You- you're- you’re alive,” Boris realized, probing her shimmering face with shaking hands.

“Oh my god!” Elaine exclaimed at him, “What happened to—

Boris did not let Elaine finish. He hugged her with all the strength he could muster, squeezing the air out of her lungs. “Don't- don't ever do this again,” he stuttered, clasping her tighter. “Just- don’t.”

“That’s not—

“Quiet,” Boris hissed. “You damned- gave me- a heart attack. I never- never- want to see somebody fall to death again.”

“Yeah,” Elaine answered with a difficult smile, stroking his back. She started to speak but Boris did not hear her. She started to speak but Boris did not hear her. His muscles went queasy with pain and his heart whimpered in surrender. The wounds on his body began to burn. Pain started to make sense again. His mind fell silent. His will subsided. For the first time in his life, Boris fell asleep while still standing.

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Some notes-

1- The collars don't control the mind. They are more like a leash and a treat. They can provoke animals or calm them (forcefully). Except that controlling them inside a battle is very difficult. (and requires tamers, who i this case were holding the more dangerous wyverns.) So you provoke a horde and just unleash it upon your enemy. Hope that helps. Oh, Scythians invented them.

2- Boris cannot focus his will. So it affects everything, he can't just target the enemy but he can reduce the area of effect (as he did with the wyvern)

3- If someone use his will to provoke an enemy it will respond in kind. But Boris has done this before (with the inn customers and Halberds) yet they did not come back to him. Why? One, because he hid his will inside immediately afterwards. Two, because of Elaine/

4- If you have been reading intently, you will notice that both enemies and allies get attracted towards Elaine. That is not because of her beauty, it is because of her will. Elaine's will has an inherent tendency of pulling in, Diana's will has an inherent tendency of being sharp, threatening. But Boris has a will that seems inherently blank. (Remember? Ocean of silence. Full but empty.) It is both puzzling and frightening because of just that.

5- I remember a reader (Lord Phrozen?) commenting that Boris used a mix of huge will and little mana to strengthen himself. It was genius thought but I denied it. That's because it is exactly what the Scythians use (and call augmentation). Boris literally strains his muscles for strength. It is powerful (not as much as a scythian's) but also quite dangerous. I wouldn't do it if I were him.

6- This brings me the last issue of contention that I have with my own plot. Why didn't the cult launch a full blown assault on the caravan while it was still traveling? And why didn't the cult use horses?

For the first question, it's because the cult wasn't really sure where the caravan was. It was only after the caravan tripped a few (previously placed) wards that they came to know and at that point they let the first wave of monsters chase after the caravan while the caravan escaped. Also, they needed the elf alive so they were more careful.

For the second question, please make up some BS reason because I am not rewriting this scene with horses included! Just pretend I tricked you. Wait, they're on uneven hills with trees to hinder cavalry, maybe that's good enough reason?

Any more doubts?

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SOME OTHER FACTS:

Goblins, grunts and orcs are all different life-stages the same being, like child, adolescent and adult (respectively)

Goblins have a greenish tinge to their blood and their skin becomes bright green in the sunlight for photosynthesis. (They are walking plants!) They are strictly herbivorous or eat the soil and can survive in very poor conditions. Grunts on the other hand, develop a sudden appetite for flesh and are really dangerous (especially since they look just like goblins but hunt like orcs and eat a lot). Orcs are full-grown ones and they can barely use photosynthesis. Their skin is more grey than green in sunlight.

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Spoiler : I will now enter a long rant where I deal with some of the issues I have heard about my fiction. If you don't want to read, skip now. You might only want to read if you want a vague idea about the story and my plans.

RANT START-

1- YOUR CHARACTERS ARE STEREOTYPES

Yes and No. This is the most frequent and the most unfair criticism I get. From the tip of my tongue I can give you two reasons.

a) If you have sense you would have noticed something in the prologue part 2 - REPEATING THE CLICHE. I wanted to start this story with a cliched beginning. I wanted to stereotype it and make fun of it intially. So I set the initial chapters exactly like that. IT WAS MEANT AS A PARODY.

Elaine- pretty priestess with a harsh tongue and quick to violence

Violet- tsundere loli mage

King- arrogant and snobbish

Arthur- pretty boy with enmity

Ray- ikemen with girls

And BECAUSE I CAN'T SUDDENLY CHANGE ALL SERIOUS I GRADUALLY CHANGED IT OVER THE COURSE OF 4-5 CHAPTERS. IF YOU CAN'T LOOK AHEAD OF THAT YOU DON'T LIKE SLOW STORIES. So don't read it.

b) A problem with introducing many characters is that before I can get you to relate to them I must get you to remember them. This is easily done using stereotypes. You remember them and I can later change them.

Now let's look at that again. Is Elaine a priestess? No. She can't even heal. Is she violent? Not really, she has a sweet-sore spot for Boris. See? Stereotypes can be broken. Gradually.

Also see tvtropes.org for understanding. I am not writing a thesis. I am writing a story.

2- BORIS IS A PUSHOVER

Quote:Author did not explicitly state that the MC wouldn’t have human emotions.

plural.

Boris is shy, introverted at times. He is specially so in the beginning. You want him to slap Elaine across the face in a world he just came to? Knowing that Elaine is important? He is teasing her and he will get some punishment in return. It is comic relief + cliche.

Why did he slap the prince? Because he has a trauma about his dead sister!

Boris is no pushover. He is developing. He is weak and strong at the same time. He is not 1-d or 2-d. I may have yet to show all the aspects of his thought but I think he is a lot better. Don't like him? Say it. Frankly that you don't like weak, slow developing characters.

3- STORY IS SLOW

There's a warning on title page. Read it.

4- STORY IS STILL SLOW

No. The story is progressing. Boris has a slow progress because a lot is happening in comparison to his growth. This is not a story about Boris. It is a story about this world.

5- YOUR STORY IS DARK BUT YOUR NARRATION IS NOT. SAME FOR YOUR CHARACTERS.

Correct. I agree with tivanenk. But I can't change it.

This story is essentially dark. It is about some very, very wrong things that have been done over the years. Things that need to be undone. Urgently. Boris is thus "not a hero" but something borne out of necessity. If I write it as dark as it is, I will not like writing it. You will not like reading it. I don't want to lose a precious few readers I have left.

6- YOUR SENTENCE TRANSITION IS CHOPPY. PARAGRAPHS CHANGE ABRUPTLY. COMMAS ARE SOMETIMES WEIRDLY PLACED.

Correct. I am trying to change this.

Why are paragraphs changing abruptly, When reading a few fics on this site, I came to realize nobody likes reading large paras (not even me). I can read them in a book. But not on this site. So I sometimes split paras to help read easier but the transition becomes abrupt/weird. Again, I am trying to change this.

7- YOUR STORY IS UNORIGINAL

You haven't even seen 1/10th of what I want to show. I have not even reached half of the first volume. When this ends, if this ends, then we will see.

RANT END-

I don't want to post a counter-review. That is not my problem. I want reviews and ratings from readers who have actually read the story far enough. Ironically, it is the opposite. So I am posting a poll.. Do you want me to stop writing? If not, then I will hopefully continue writing at least until the ratings dip to 3/5. At which point I am afraid, I will stop posting this because either this story is really bad and I need to change it or this is just not the right place to post the story.

I would also request a review but I want it from people who have actually read (and commented on it.) People who want it to improve and not those who want it to end. I know enough of them, Don't get me wrong I do want my story to improve and I am listening ( right toobadbro?). There are like six-seven more stories I want to write so I do need to improve. But well, would it hurt to be honest and civil about it?

I know my fic has issues. Like?

1- 'ly' adverbs are sometimes over used. Show don't tell for expressions. ("bitter smile, proud face, silly voice- these are not very good)

2- the descriptions needs to be more immersive, subtle, interactive and less like a painting

3- the heroes haven't been characterized well enough

4- there are places where the story flow breaks and writing quality suffers

etc.etc. If you're going to leave a -ve review, please leave real, semi-objective issues more. Suggest some cure.

And people, please leave some comments.

Thanks.

PS: I actually had to research a hill's height before writing this. Thankfully, the maximum height is like 610m/2000ft. So people can fall to death safely from that height.

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