Following the witch’s trail was trivial. All Axel Voight had to do was activate his vision cantrip and the blazing sun that was her occult resonance shone through the trees and undergrowth. But as they climbed up the hillside, the stiff-lipped Storm Leader Rorn Dussel was getting antsier by the minute.

“Where are they retreating to? Uphill is the crest, but then, the southern side is filled with cliffs nearly fifty cubits high,” he muttered. “They’re putting themselves in a corner.”

“Judging by how the three of them moved…” Axel shuddered. He didn’t have to say anything else as his aide and the company commander reacted negatively. The witch slapped the bullets away, and didn’t look the worse for wear. The werewolves were struck, but they shrugged off the bullet wounds as though they were scratches. The fact that they fled was mitigating, however, and Axel thought that their occult resonance had limits no matter how powerful they were.

“You mean to say that sheer cliff faces aren’t a deterrent?”

“Perhaps not,” Axel said. “We might lose the trail over difficult terrain. We have to apprehend her as soon as possible. Oh the secrets she must hold…” he gushed.

Dussel eyed him warily and snorted. “I’m not going to waste my men’s lives unnecessarily. If they don’t surrender, we’ll have to pry their secrets out of their corpses. And, I don’t think the occult resonance event you said you recorded came from people. There might be a relic site up here.”

“You’re not wrong,” Axel admitted.

It would be a pity if they die though. Well, if they did, it meant that their magicks isn't strong enough to matter in the greater scheme of things. Having cooled his thoughts, he faithfully tracked the witch’s flight.

At one point, the path led over a small ravine. It was roughly four cubits wide. Not an easy jump, but with hasty engineering, a makeshift bridge had been made using branches and rope. That lost them an hour, however, and the trail had gone cold. The witch’s occult resonance signature had disappeared, but Axel could still sense something a few hundred cubits away.

As they approached the source, the witch and her fiends finally showed their fangs. A streak of brilliant purple light flashed past Axel’s right, and struck one of the riflemen. The man froze for a long moment, stared down at his gut, where a fist sized hole now existed through his uniform and flesh. With a gurgled scream, the hapless rifleman collapsed to his knees and tried to cover the wound.

“Take cover!” Dussel’s words were unnecessary as the troops had already hidden behind tree trunks, boulders, and bushes. The ones at the front returned fire with their bolt action rifles. The trajectory of the attack had been clear, but it was uphill. Axel doubted that they managed to hit anything at all. But the purpose of such suppressive fire was to prevent the enemy from firing back. Already, the Storm Leader was directing a couple of squads to flank the attackers from the left.

Several minutes passed with no return fire from the opposition. Axel began to think that the attacker was shooting from an ambush position and had long since moved on. But then, as soon as the suppressive fire stopped, something else came flying down from above.

Wsssst! Booom!

Axel’s head snapped towards the right, where something had struck a tree trunk and blasted a hole into the thing. The tree was nearly a cubit thick, and the splinters from the wood turned into lethal shrapnel.

“Argh!”

A couple of boys plucked splinters from their arm, which had penetrated through their trench coats.

Wsst! Booom!

Another thing flew down and struck a boulder, which shattered like glass and showered them with sharp fragments. Axel ducked belatedly, and a line of fire went across his forehead. Warm liquid dripped down over his eyebrows and dyed his eyesight red.

“Ow.” He muttered as he wiped his hand across his brow. His sleeve came back bloody and he stumbled back. Blood. He wasn’t unfamiliar with it, but it had been years since he last bled. It had been during basic training…he actually had not been in a combat situation until recently. Being part of the Warlock Department, he was rarely on the front lines. He fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against the wound.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The Storm Leader had his troops return fire. But a moment later, lines of purple, green, and blue flames blasted towards them. Many of the fiery, but slow, projectiles struck wood, grass, or the bushes, which then got ignited. Smoke rolled from the resulting fires, causing soldiers to cough and shake. Axel’s eyes watered as the black smoke got into his eyes.

Ra-ta-tat-tat!

Someone had finally set up the light machine gun and began sending a rain of steel up the slope.

Ptang! Ptang! Ptang!

Most of the bullets probably missed, but enough struck stone that sparks lit up the forest gloom. Axel frowned and activated his vision cantrip. There were multiple glimmers of occult resonance now. Weak compared to the witch, but objectively, they were far stronger than his reactive malachite ring.

Axel sucked in a cold breath. This detachment of infantry, especially divorced from their mechanized weapons and vehicles, would probably be no match for the occult powers arrayed against them. The terrain, the unfavourable position…

But there was that troop circling around.

Sure enough, gunfire sounded from the left. The other light machine gunner had gone with the squad, and they were now raining bullets down the enemy position.

Storm Leader Dussel signalled a cautious advance, and another squad crept up the hillside by twenty cubits or so, before hiding behind trees and rocks. Then they laid out covering fire and another squad crept up. Axel joined this one. While keeping a hand over his kerchief, he moved at a crawl. He was wounded, but he wasn’t eager to fall back. Quite the opposite really.

Eventually, without giving their opponents the chance to attack, they climbed up until the slope leveled off and they found what they were looking for. Set back from the edge by about a hundred cubits, maybe one twenty, was a low stone wall. The company had been firing upslope for a while now, and it was clear that the witch and her ilk were behind those walls.

Whoosh!

“Aieee!”

From above the branches, a firebolt came down and slammed into a soldier’s helmet. The metal dome deflected the bolt, but it burst into flame anyway. The man reflexively tried to throw it away, and succeeded by sacrificing a hand. But then, another bolt slammed into his shoulder, and the fire ate at it enough that his arm fell off.

Rifles shot upwards at the source, but then, the shooter jumped away. The wavering mirage was obvious to Axel’s eyes, but not to the soldiers. They fired at where the shooter was, but the fiend was long gone.

“There!” he yelled, pointing a finger at the mirage. Bless the Storm Leader for he followed his call, and commanded his troops to fire.

One of the bullets must have disrupted the shooter’s mirage cloak as the figure came into view. It was another woman, but this time with short brown hair. She was carrying a fancy looking rifle that practically glowed with occult resonance. The bullet might have wounded her, but that didn’t stop her from aiming her weapon. Straight at him.

Eyes widening as adrenaline pumped into his veins, Axel dove out of the way as a firebolt slammed into where he was standing a split second ago. The woman fired another bolt, but this time aimed at the Storm Leader.

Rorn Dussel survived by the simple fact that one of his soldiers leapt in the way of the firebolt, which struck him across the neck and spelled his doom.

“Fire!” Dussel yelled and the machine gunner forcefully pulled up his weapon and shot. The recoil drove him a step back, but he wrestled the barrel into the right direction. One of those should strike true.

The woman fell to the ground, but landed on her feet. She leapt away and ran towards the wall. The flankers were shooting from a higher vantage point, and from behind the walls, several firebolts lashed upwards.

Axel counted nearly a dozen shooters on the other side, but it was strange. He could see a mix of men and women behind the walls, but there were another dozen that were armed with spears, swords, and shields. What manner of barbarian uses old weapons in this day and age?

The blonde witch was standing in their midst. No, she was between the flanking squad and the rest of her fiends. She…was glowing. Golden light flowed from her body, illuminating the space she was in. Bullets rained down at her…and they all bounced off that light. Her eyes glowed golden and she turned her gaze at Axel and the others. She held her hand up, and then, there was a brilliant flash of gold. Afterwards, three spikes floated above her hand. What manner of magick was this?

Then, the witch rushed out. She headed straight towards the flankers, and then, the spikes flew from her hand. It struck at the trees, the boulders, and the earth, causing eruptions of flame. Then, the spikes flew back towards her, before blasting out again.

The light machine gunner targeted the witch, and pulled the trigger. A hail of bullets, but instead of blocking it with her light, she spun and danced out of the way. Then, she picked up a stone…or rather, a rock floated up from the ground and landed on her hand. She wound up, then threw it towards the machine gunner.

Wheeeee! Boooom!

The stone landed a couple of cubits in front of the gunner and shattered. The shrapnel from the stone was like a grenade, and perforated the man’s hastily held up hands. The light machine gun bounced away, its barrel bent and its stock cratered.

“Pull back!” Dussel yelled and they sought cover. Axel stumbled back down the slope. They didn’t stop the suppressive fire, but with that wall, it was impossible to hit anything. The gunfire from the flankers eased up slightly, but a minute later, they were still firing. The shooters on the witch’s side continued to snipe at the flankers, and from the intermittent screams, some of the boys had been hit. Wisely, they pulled back and sought better cover. The witch’s firebolts went through tree trunks too easily, and could even cause the trees to topple given enough time.

Axel crawled towards Dussel. “What now?”

The man grunted and said, “They’re pinned down there. We’ll call in reinforcements.” He gestured to one of his men, “How many mortar bombs do you have?”

“Eight, Storm Leader.”

“You have the range?”

“Easily.”

“Rain fire.”

“Glory to the Tyrant!”

“Wait!” Axel protested. “That’ll eliminate them all!”

“That’s the point,” Dussel said sharply.

“But…”

“We’ll take those injured and interogate them.”

Axel shook his head. Would there be anyone left after getting bombed?

“Fire!”

A couple more soldiers set up their mortars. They fiddled with the angle, then dropped the first round.

Wheeee! Booooom!

“It went long. Adjust.” Another soldier acting as spotter said.

Wheeee! Boom! Wheee! Boom!

The relentless march of bombs eventually landed within the walls. The flurry of firebolts stopped as the witch’s soldiers took cover. But evidently, Dussel wasn’t satisfied yet. He was out for blood after the casualties they had.

Axel grumbled under his breath. What knowledge would be lost. Perhaps the bombing would only leave the witch stunned?

But the moment the mortars stopped, a new fusillade of firebolts came towards them. Evidently, the bombing wasn’t enough. Still, there were fewer shots at once, so maybe there were some injured. Or they’re running out of occult resonance.

Now that they had the range to hit behind the wall, the artillerists sent a couple of bombs every few minutes. Then, they interspersed it with gunfire. A quarter of the troops started digging a trench with the goal of putting up barriers to protect them from the firebolts, and to dig their way towards the wall.

The witch was pinned down into the ruins, and it was only a matter of time…

Dussel grinned, gestured to Axel and said, “We’ll have a tank company here by tomorrow. By then, we’ll have your prisoners.”