《Improvisation and Magic Don't Mix (A Progression Fantasy)》136 - Battlefield Meditations
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It was a wholly different experience compared to fighting people.
With people, you have hesitation, and a sense of self-preservation, and humanity. Even with the puppets from yesterday, there was an understanding that they were people, deep down. Even the most hardened killers would hesitate once in a while.
It was harder to mistake these enemies for people, shambling around with fatal injuries, sometimes literally throwing themselves or parts of their bodies. And as the battle continued, it became easier and easier to view those they were fighting with disgust and revulsion, as their skeletons broke down and skin sloughed off and the putrid stench of decay slowly ripened under the heat of the sun.
Of course, that brought a whole other host of problems. After it became borderline unbearable, Theo shoved the cleanest mud he could find up his nose, and stopped breathing entirely, relying on Endless Song.
Others had done similarly, or wrapped their face in whatever cloth or rag was handy.
It was easy to tell who were the true veterans who had faced combat, as they just soldiered on as if there wasn’t a smell at all.
The other problem was the nature of their undeath. Every body part was independent and capable of moving while separate.
This made it rather difficult to incapacitate any enemy using normal methods, as a stab did nothing to the rest of the body, and decapitation just meant losing dead weight.
Theo scanned the hordes approaching, and decided to try something that had forgotten to try when the warriors were being used as puppets. He activated Meditation, and drained the area of mana.
The force animating their bodies did not budge, affixed by prayers and higher magic.
“It was worth a shot.” He muttered, going back to plan b: hitting them as hard as he could until they stopped moving.
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Hands and legs flew through the air as they were blasted or broken off, flecks of both blood and magic intermingling and leaving gruesome, shining trails behind.
Theo let his backfires roar, running around and carving a channel through the encroaching army. It was like trying to push back the tide – as soon as he made some space around him, they crowded in again, feeding themselves to their demise.
There was no end. More and more bodies rose from the earth, and those that fell stood right back up. Even those with crushed bones and missing limbs just grabbed whatever was available and kept going.
He was starting to wonder if this is why they were so cavalier about throwing their army to their deaths.
Nearby, he heard more explosions as Jenny flitted about, punching and exploding whatever was nearby.
He saw a teacher from the College of War draw a sword with a flash and cut through a far larger group than should have been possible. They fell to the ground, diced into perfectly even cubes…that still tried to move.
Fireballs and arrows peppered the battlefield, and for a moment there was hope that the bodies caught up in the sprouting flames would turn to ash.
And the flesh did. But from the ashes rose blackened skeletons, whatever remaining flesh sloughing off as they shambled forth.
And as they rose, as undeath made way for undeath, the blood that had fertilised this plot of land continued to grow a war that was truly endless.
The ground rumbled, and Theo turned to see the vine cages that held the prisoners rising as hands reached up from below, trying to reach those who still had a chance of getting through this alive.
The vines were birdcages, and even as skeletons and swollen hands climbed its sides like ants who’d found an unattended piece of bread, those inside still struggled, yearning for the freedom of death that some would gladly give them.
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If they did find what they were looking for, Theo wasn’t sure if The Woods would continue restraining them or leave them for him and the others to deal with, while redoubling their efforts elsewhere.
While there was certainly a full battlefield now, he had no doubts that just like before, people would run out of mana and leave him and a few others to do what they could.
And given the relentlessness of the enemy and the thoroughness of their destruction that was required, Theo had a feeling it would not be long before he wouldn’t be able to see a friend through the field of foes.
He shook his head, used Meditation to replenish his mana reserves with some of the lingering aftereffects of all the magic being thrown around.
He wasn’t full, but it was enough.
Theo cracked his neck, and got back to work.
---
He was getting the hang of this. Throw around just enough mana to obliterate bone and muscle tissue, and sweep his surroundings while constantly moving.
The explosions orbited him, as he controlled them in a tight radius to maximise their effectiveness for the mana cost while also keeping himself safe. He danced with magic as his partner, and the battlefield was his ballroom.
To be fair, it wasn’t too far from what he had been doing that night at the Flake estate.
He continued his waltz, erasing chunks of flesh and leaving behind bone dust and a pink slurry that laid separately and on top of the mud. His steps grew more fluid and confident as his movements became more and more confident and practiced.
Theo closed his eyes as he spun, flickering Meditation on in between each backfire to recycle as much of the mana as possible, and supplement it with whatever ambient mana was left.
As he went, he became more and more efficient, breathing in time with the wind, feeling the earth under his feet exactly where it needed to be, and the sun on his skin soaked in and fed this burning feeling that radiated out from his heart into his veins.
It felt like power, like eternity, like he was one with the unstoppable reality that was nature and the land and magic itself.
Something clicked.
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