Heretical Fishing

Book 3: Chapter 67: Attack

A high-pitched whistle rang over the battlefield, growing louder by the second as it cut through the dying flames still crackling on the mountainside. The trees there were blackened and charred, their fibers having long been burned away.

Something deep within Barry’s mind wanted to retreat from the approach of something large enough to be heard from hundreds of meters away. He set that instinct aside. It wasn’t needed.

As the strike from above drew closer, he clicked his tongue. The lightning-covered boulder was slightly off-target. It didn’t really matter, though. It would land right beside the king, the monarch certainly within the blast radius. Besides, there were plenty more to come. At least one of them would be a direct hit. In the moments before the first one landed, Barry cast his vision upward, wanting to witness the beautiful barrage. The ‘stars’ were brighter now, having gotten closer to the ground. He stared as long as possible, soaking in the sight.

Abruptly, he squinted and leaned forward, trying to get a better look. “Peter...”

“Yes, Barry?”

He pointed up. “Third boulder from the left, all the way at the back. Is that...?”

Peter held up a hand to block out the setting sun. He searched for less than a second before his eyes went wide. He boomed a laugh. “What the frack is she doing?”

Pressed against the bottom of the boulder, with her needle-sharp teeth locked in a vicious smile, Corporal Claws launched herself. To a regular human, all they would have seen was a bolt of bright-blue lightning splitting the afternoon air. The skin of Claws’s face rippled back, the force of her approach creating drag on even her enhanced body. In a fraction of a fraction of a second, she was on the off-target boulder. She struck it with great care, her limbs absorbing the landing only to extend them once more and course-correct the giant stone.

The boulder, now covered in even more lightning, rocketed directly at the king. It hit with sickening force, the ground shifting beneath Barry’s feet.

Everything that followed happened in the blink of an eye. A crater appeared, the expelled air and dirt sending everyone around the king flying. Claws did a loop and crashed down after her boulder, hitting with enough force to make a second blast shake the world. All the spirit beasts attacked, their respective powers launched for the closest enemy. Roger drew his sword back and readied a strike, holding it as a defensive measure should any of the corrupted cultivators recover. Trent, with flames rocketing from his back, shot forward, heading for the crater his father and Claws were at the bottom of. Time seemed to freeze as the attacks flew.

Barry felt the wave of sickening nausea before he saw the flames. It was the foulest yet, and as it rolled over Barry’s core, his vision spun. When the inferno erupted from the crater, he was blasted from his feet. Tendrils of flame wound from the hole as if they had their own wills, climbing over each other in search of prey. They shielded all the king’s allies, consuming the attacks that the defenders had sent their way. Claws, the whites of her eyes showing as she glanced back in panic, rocketed out ahead of the conflagration. Even she couldn’t withstand the heat...

It was all Barry needed to see. “Reservists!” he yelled, getting back to his feet. “Retreat to the citizens!” They’d have no issue dealing with this threat, and he didn’t want to pointlessly risk anyone’s life. Remembering that they had organized a signal for such a circumstance, he pulled the horn from his belt and let out two long tones, followed by a short one. The reservists fled, helping each other as they went.

The flames gave chase. As they flared in pursuit, Barry felt the king’s will behind them. They weren’t conscious at all; they were directed. They rushed to close the distance, heading for those that were closest.

In a single fluid movement, Roger got back to his feet and lashed out with his sword, the blade arcing through the air. The razor-sharp chi that shot from him both literally and figuratively sliced through the king’s will, splitting the entire explosion in a crosscut pattern. The countless sections detonated, combining to rush past Barry as hot wind.

High above the ground, Claws latched onto Bill’s back. Cinnamon was atop Pelly next to them. Together, they returned to the ground, landing amongst the reforming defenders. All eyes were on the crater as the king stirred within. Even Barry could feel the circulation of that disgusting chi as the monarch strode up the slope. As he came into view, Barry’s stomach churned, and it wasn’t only because of the essence coming from his core.

The boulder had done a number on him.

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Sections of his skin were aflame, the fires slowly shrinking as his body regenerated. The entire right side of his face glowed an angry red like the heart of a furnace. When it finally fizzled out, the king opened his eyes. and they contained madness and hatred in equal measure. His accomplices came to his side at an unnatural clip, their cores oozing the same corrupted chi.

Of all things, the enemies’ posture confused him. There were three distinct groups. The first ten people, a mix of genders, peered at the defenders with their heads cocked to the side. Their expressions reminded Barry of a flock of seagulls eyeing off a potential meal. The next six were all women. They stood with straight backs and blank faces. The last two, Augustus Reginald Gormona and the man who had to be Tom Osnan Sr., appeared ready to murder anything that stood in their way.

As the two armies stared one another down, Claws loped forward. She chirped at the group of women, getting their attention and giving them one of Rocky’s rudest gestures.

One of the women’s eyes widened in recognition, then narrowed. “Where are the rest of your kin, Fat Rat Pack? And the other creatures?”

In response, Claws raised her other forepaw, doubling down. She gesticulated wildly, hitting them with the rude gesture from all angles.

The king’s eyes roamed over the crowd, focusing on all the spirit beasts present. Finally, they landed on Ellis, who was in his Lizard Wizard regalia. “Ah. I see.” His voice was emotionless, lacking any of the fury on his face. “It was all a ruse...” He opened his hand, flexing his fingers. “You’re no sorcerer, Ellis. You are but a common traitor.”

Ellis flicked up the hood of his armor, revealing his visage for all to see. “That is a matter of perspective, Augustus. With the chi running through your veins, some would say that you are a traitor to humanity.”

The king’s power flared in response, the nauseating essence washing over them. Before it could settle on their cores, a sharp chi sliced through it. Two fingers on Roger’s sword-hand had been pointed down this entire time, signaling everyone to let this moment drag on as long as possible. Now, his hand shook, a physical manifestation of the blade-like fury coming from him. A shiver ran down his spine, his breaths coming heavy.

The king focused in on him, but upon seeing Roger looking at someone else, he tracked his gaze, raising a single eyebrow. Roger stared at one of the cultivators that looked like birds.

The skinny man peered back, craning his neck. “Oh!” he called. “I know you!”

“Know?” “Know.” “Know!” the others repeated, smiling and hopping around.

“Lucian,” Roger ground out, his teeth bared and muscles tense. “You should be dead.”

“Dead!” “Dead?” “Dead, dead?” They all laughed and resumed their hopping.

Roger’s arm shook violently now, a soldier fighting back the urge to attack. “You tore through my men—your own troops—like a reaper through wheat, you insane piece of shit.”

“Ah,” the king said. “I understand now... you were a soldier in the campaign against Theogonia.”

“Aye,” Roger spat. “A Captain.”

“Unimportant.” The king shrugged one shoulder, his disconcertingly calm voice still at odds with his expression. “Join us. Swap sides now. Your power feels deadly. Useful. Return to your kingdom. If you kneel before me, you can—”

“Shut up.” The two words from Roger held the weight of command, his metallic chi laced throughout.

The king closed his mouth, his body bowing to the threat before his mind could protest. When he realized he’d obeyed, flames literally burst from his body. The king snarled and opened up his core, making Barry and most of the defenders fight off another wave of nausea.

“Attack,” the king said without inflection.

And the world erupted into chaos

Both front lines lurched forward, power streaming from their cores. Before they could so much as finish their first step, the ground between them split, the top of a giant root breaching the surface. All around the battlefield, the same scene repeated itself, thick roots making chunks of dirt rise and fall aside. To the left of the tamped field, a patch of ground exploded. Two trunks of different shades of blue climbed toward the heavens. They wound around each other, branches and leaves unfurling when they were hundreds of meters above.

Lemon and the other tree spirit had arrived.

The air seemed to quiver as both tree spirits opened up their cores. The next thing Barry knew, clean chi washed over him. It was an amplification of the world’s essence, and though it didn’t completely nullify the odious power coming from the king, it took the edge away. Barry took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, his nausea was gone. Attackers and defenders both had leaped away from the ruptured ground, not knowing what appeared from below. As the defenders breathed of the cleansed air, they straightened, their vitality returning.

Roger held his sword toward the sky, his fist clenched around the hilt. Knowing what was to come, Barry filled his lungs. A silence like the calm before a storm descended, the very world seeming to hold its breath.

“Attack!” they both roared, their chi fueling the words.

As one, New Tropica’s forces charged.