Dragon Mage 012 - Holding the Line (Patreon)

391 days until the Arkon Shield falls

It is no secret that the Trials permanently accelerates a player’s learning rate of Neophyte Disciplines and Attributes beyond what is ‘natural.’ Yet, with the newcomer buff, the Trials does even more for players on their first day. While the buff is in force, a player can rapidly advance his Disciplines and Attributes to Trainee rank in a mere matter of hours. Don’t squander it. —Trials Infopedia.

Just as I thought, we bypassed the line of clashing murluks and humans and reached the western end of the grassy plain. Beyond it, was a wide-flowing river that snaked off into the horizon both to the north and south.

“That’s where we go,” Tara said, pointing to the river below.

I looked where she gestured. We had stopped on the edge of the river’s upper bank. Below us, the ground angled sharply downwards to the river’s lower bank, which was a stretch of gently-sloping shore nearly thirty yards wide. Waves constantly slapped back and forth across it, turning the lower bank muddy and treacherous.

Running north to south, all along the upper bank, was a line of rubble piled next to a shallow ditch. Excavations? I wondered, but only in passing. My attention was mostly focused on the near-deafening clash of weapons and the raging mass of men and murluks on the river’s shore.

On the very edge of the river, wading through the frothing black waters, hundreds of men bellowed in anger as they pushed back against the flood of murluks emerging from the river’s watery depths. The creatures, still wet and dripping, flung themselves with reckless abandon at the human defenders.

My mouth dropped open in shock. This is the true battle, I realised as I looked down at the chaotic scene. By comparison, the fight near the temple was only a small skirmish. I swallowed sudden nerves. And Tara means to take me down there.

While I watched, thousands of murluks, slurping noisily and with bare feet slapping in the mud, beat against the thinly stretched defensive line of men. The human wall bowed and shifted, but did not break. Rallying to the bellows of their captains, the fighters surged forward and pushed the murluks back.

The men did not pursue their foes into deeper water though. Instead, they snapped their line back into shape and reformed the wall along the river’s edge. There, they waited for the murluks’ next charge.

Which was already building.

Though hundreds of murluks had been cut down by the defenders’ manoeuvre, more of the frog-like creatures were surfacing from the river to take the place of their fallen. So many, I thought, staring in horror at the revitalised horde. How are the soldiers holding them back?

If what the black-haired woman had said was true, then humanity had been battling the murluks since day one. How have Tara’s people held them at bay for nine days? My gaze slid to the woman by my side.

While I was staring agog at the spectacle, Tara had apparently been assessing the battle. “The line appears weak on the right. They may not survive another charge.”

The motion of two dozen men at the foot of the upper bank caught my attention. They had not been involved in the previous clash of murluk and men. Seemingly rested and fresh, the men were moving to take up position in the human wall.

Tara gestured at the fighters. “John’s unit,” she said by way of explanation. “Going to reinforce the right flank, if I am not mistaken. And just in time too.” She nodded in approval. “Smart soldier. Come on, let’s go join them.”

Tara leapt down the upper bank, heedless of the danger posed by the steeply sloping ground. Despite the desperate clash of weapons, it had not escaped my notice that Tara appeared fully at ease. The woman betrayed not the slightest hint of nerves at joining the battle.

The same could not be said of me.

I eyed Tara’s sure-footed dance down the slope and bit back a spurt of envy. Her pace was not anything I could match, even if I wanted to. Tentatively, I tested the soundness of the bank with my good leg. The hard-packed earth did not shift under my foot.

I can manage this, I told myself. Stepping onto the slope, I followed in Tara’s footsteps.

As I struggled down the upper bank, I kept a tight rein on my thoughts. What Tara and I were venturing into was nothing like my previous—and only—combat experience.

I had been forced into the fight with the orcs. In that encounter, I had reacted instinctively and had little time to think.

This was not going to be the same.

This time I was walking willingly into conflict—even though I knew I was abysmally unprepared. My heart pounded and my mouth felt dry. Why am I doing this? I wondered suddenly.

I wasn’t ready for this. I knew it. Tara knew it. So why was she leading me into battle? Because they need every man they can get, I answered myself. Their—our?—cause was dire.

As much as the thought of the fight scared me, I couldn’t shirk away from it. Doing so would destroy what little trust I had earned from Tara. And for all the woman’s brusque manner, she had treated me fairly, far better than I had any right to expect. If I ran now, I would be branded a coward or worse.

Despite my fear, I had to shoulder my responsibility and play my part. Wiping my sweaty palms dry, I limped resolutely in Tara’s shadow.

At the bottom of the upper bank, Tara glanced back. Seeing that I followed in her wake, she nodded. “Good man.” Despite myself, I straightened, standing taller under her gaze.

“Tara!” a voice called out, full of laughter and good cheer that had no place on the blood-soaked river shore. “Have you come to join us? I thought you’d have left this misbegotten place already!”

Turning my head, I saw that the speaker was a tall red-haired man at the fore of the men jogging to reinforce the lines. Despite the grimness of the battlefield, he looked as calm and relaxed as Tara.

“Not on your life, John!” Tara yelled back with friendly wave.

John chuckled and peered beyond Tara at me. “Who have you got there?”

“New fish. I’ll look after him.”

John’s face scrunched up in momentary uncertainty, his mask of joviality briefly slipping when his gaze dropped to my crippled foot. “You sure?” He shook his head. “Of course, you’re sure. You’re Tara. You’re always sure!” He guffawed again, laughing at his own joke.

“Damn right, John,” replied Tara.

My gaze was drawn to John’s unit, some of whom clenched their weapons with the same white-knuckled grip that I did. I realised then that the pair’s friendly banter was deliberate and only for the benefit of John’s men. I glanced at Tara. Unlike John, she betrayed no sign of hidden tension. Does she truly feel no fear?

Further conversation broke off as John and his men raced the remaining distance to the line, slipping into the many gaps in its formation.

Gaps left by their fallen comrades.

I swallowed and averted my gaze from the dead soldiers lying abandoned where they had fallen in the churned-up muck. With the murluks readying for another charge, I knew Tara’s people did not have time to see to the fallen, yet somehow the dead’s vacant eyes seemed full of reproach while I limped passed them through the mud. Lifting my gaze, I saw that beyond the human wall the murluks had pooled together into new groups. Are they about to charge? I wondered.

Tara stopped three feet away from the defenders and clamped a hand on my shoulder. “Remember everything I told you and you will be fine,” she said.

Not trusting myself to say anything, I nodded mutely and followed her into the line. The men on either side made way for us. Tara, a step in front of me, was on my left. On my right was a freckled youth with ginger hair. He nodded at me. “I’m Michael.”

“Jamie,” I said, having to lick my lips to moisten them before replying.

Michael glanced beyond me to Tara. “First battle?” he asked sympathetically.

“Yep,” I replied.

“Don’t worry, Tara will take care of you. She’s one our best fighters. One word of advice, though. Tara has probably forgotten to even mention this, but don’t neglect your Techniques.” Michael leaned in close. “That woman seems to have a supernatural knack for battle. I swear she doesn’t even make use of any of her Trials-gained abilities. Not so for us lesser mortals. I wouldn’t have survived as long as I have without them.”

Michael’s warning was timely. In the chaos of my arrival and the rush to get here, I had forgotten about my Techniques. I smiled gratefully at Michael. “Thanks,” I said.

“No problem, friend,” he replied before turning his attention back to the murluks.

I shot a glance at the creatures myself. They had not begun their advance. I had time yet, so I willed open the Trials core in my mind and recalled the messages stored within. As it had on Earth, a translucent window edged in gold unfurled in my mind and words spilled out.

I inspected the Trials alerts.

Disappointingly, none of my Disciplines and Attributes had changed from what Aurora had shown me on Wyrm Island.

It seemed I would have to wait until I levelled up and visited the dragon temple before I could acquire further magical skills. But in the meantime, I would have to make do with the few useable Techniques I did have.

As I reviewed them, I realised with a start that I knew how to use the abilities already. The knowledge was instinctive and deeply ingrained. Not pausing to marvel at the minor miracle, I prepared myself to cast mimic.

Fool that I was, I hadn’t thought to use it yet. But in a camp of humans in the throes of battle, the chance that anyone had bothered to analyse me already was negligible.

I opened my magesight. Reaching for the magic at the centre of my being, I tapped into its core and looked upon the world through the lens of magic. It was the first time I had performed such a feat, yet it felt as natural as breathing.

Turning my gaze onto myself, I studied the flowing lines of my spirit and found that I understood its design. Taken all together, the threads of intricately interwoven spirit that formed my being mapped out the core of who I was—and my Potentials.

I knew already that players did not see this intricate weave of spirit when they applied analyse. Most did not have the magesight needed, and those who did weren’t likely to have the necessary knowledge to understand the complicated twists and swirls of spirit.

For most players, it was the Trials itself that interpreted a target’s spirit weave and reported back the results. But now, courtesy of the Mimicked Core Trait, I had the knowledge, not only to understand the threads of myself, but to alter them. Only superficially, of course, but enough so to confound any player’s analyse.

Reaching out with my mind, I plucked the first filament of spirit and shifted it to where it needed to be. I worked swiftly from there, and in only a few seconds my task was completed and my Magic Potential disguised.

It did not take long for the Trials to confirm the changes.

Mimic activated. Your true Magic Potential: extraordinary has been masked and will be seen by others as: meagre.

I nodded in satisfaction at the results. I couldn’t conceal my magical Potential entirely. If I did that, I would have a hard time explaining how I was able to cast any spells at all. With my Potential revealed as meagre, even though I would still be noteworthy for having the ability, the true strength of my magic would be hidden.

Or so I hoped.

Out of curiosity, I turned my magesight towards the nearest murluk. Its being was a chaotic whirl of spirit, but disappointingly I could not fathom their hidden meaning.

I closed my magesight. It seemed each being’s spirit weave was unique and would require its own store of knowledge or careful study to decode. In time, perhaps I could gain the skill to do so, but for now, just like any other player, I would have to rely on analyse to understand my foes.

Drawing on my will, I reached out and cast analyse on the murluk, and in response, received a report from the Trials.

The target is a level 12 river murluk. It has no Magic, meagre Might, is gifted with Resilience, and has low Craft.

Knowledge of the murluk filled me as I willed away the message. In an eyeblink, I understood more of the murluk than I knew of most creatures from Earth. My mouth dropped open in astonishment.

Then the sense of the information the Trials provided penetrated and my mouth worked again. For a different reason entirely.

Fear.

The murluk’s level was far beyond my own. The creature likely needed only one hit to kill me!

What am I doing here again?

“Relax, champion,” Tara said, sensing my agitation. “Just remember to drive your spear forward and pull it back. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“But those creatures are more than ten levels higher than me!” I protested.

“You are a… trifle less prepared than my regular recruits,” admitted Tara. “Most of them usually manage to get in some basic training and visit the temple before needing to face the murluks.” She held my gaze. “But you can get through this.”

I stared at her in disbelief. A little less prepared? Who is she kidding—

My thoughts ground to a halt as, with loud, slurping cries and darting tongues, the first of the murluks hopped forward in attack.

The battle was about to begin.

✽✽✽

My mind blanked and my eyes unfocused, mesmerised by the approach of the mud-spattered, blue-skinned toads, their large black alien eyes, and their darting pink tongues.

Tara jerked her arm backwards and swatted me—hard. The world snapped back into focus. “Get it together, fish,” she ordered.

I shook my head to clear it and wrapped both my hands around my spear. Tara was crouched low behind her shield and held the spear in her right arm at ready.

I hadn’t realised it earlier, but Tara was barely over five feet in height. At six feet tall, I literally loomed over the diminutive fighter, which would make my job of stabbing from behind her in the second row much simpler.

I breathed easier. I can do this, I thought. Setting my stance as best I could, I waited.

The murluk line crashed against the human wall in a fury of sound and a flurry of thrusted spears. Ignoring my chattering teeth, I kept my eyes fixed on Tara and waited for her to move first.

A murluk emerged out of the horde, appearing with a suddenness that nearly caused me to fall back in surprise. Only Tara’s stillness kept me in position.

The warrior thrust his spear towards my companion. With enviable calm, Tara flung her shield upwards and parried away the murluk’s strike. Then, in a blur of movement, she slashed out with her own weapon and ripped open the murluk’s torso.

Tara’s success fuelled my courage.

Despite the dread thickening my limbs, I forced myself into motion. Stepping forward, I jabbed downwards at the much shorter murluk. Aiming for the murluk’s throat, I missed, and grazed his face instead.

“Good job! Now pull back!” shouted Tara. I withdrew my spear. Tara stepped into the gap and punched through the murluk with a second thrust. The creature fell lifelessly to the floor.

Another took his place.

The second murluk was more cautious than the first. He feinted, then thrust his spear in a half-hearted fashion towards Tara’s legs.

Instead of dodging backwards as the murluk probably expected, Tara leapt forward, and slammed her shield down onto the spear, trapping it beneath the wooden plank.

After a second’s hesitation, I stepped forward and jabbed my spear forward again. Tara, following through on her first attack, struck out as well.

The green-eyed fighter’s blow tore through the murluk’s unprotected armpit, while my own merely scratched his arm.

The murluk hung on to life somehow—alive, but mortally injured. Tara did not relent. Stepping forward, she bashed in the murluk’s face with her shield and jabbed at his torso with her spear.

With a final gasp, the murluk fell dead.

In the sudden respite, I remembered to breathe again, and took in a deep lungful of air. In a matter of seconds, Tara and I had killed two murluks. Well, Tara had done all the work, yet I had helped. More importantly, though, I’d survived the exchange.

Then something extraordinary happened.

My head buzzed, and knowledge that I knew was not mine seeped into my consciousness. I corrected my grip on the spear, and instinctively shifted my hands to where they needed to be.

That’s better, I thought, feeling the weapon balance easier in my hand. After that, the accompanying Trials’ message was no surprise.

Your combat experience has advanced your skill with spears to: level 1.

With adrenaline surging, and my blood singing, I felt revitalised and itched to advance. Elsewhere, the line was bowing backwards, others not doing so well.

Tara sensed the danger. “Back!” she barked, retreating herself. Obediently, I followed and stepped into line with her.

Noticing our retreat and probably hoping to catch us off guard, a murluk hopped forward and stabbed at Tara. She was equal to the challenge. Casually—almost lazily—the fighter parried away the blow. Even more impressively, Tara did not strike out again, but instead stepped back into the security of our lines.

There, she waited.

The murluk, smarter than his fellows, realised that his quarry was far too wily. He faded back into the horde and broke off in search of easier prey. Another, less cautious murluk, took his place.

Tara went through the same smooth, precise motions of parry and counterattack. Falling in line with her easy rhythm, I followed her blows with my own, and together we skewered our foe with our twin strikes.

As the third murluk fell, a flurry of Trials messages scrolled through my vision and left me gaping.

You have gained in experience and are now a: level 2 Neophyte.

Your skill with spears has advanced to: level 2.

Your strength has increased to: level 2.

The last message was the most surprising. Following on its heels, one of the almost-forgotten runes from my Induction rose out of my subconscious—where it had been patiently waiting all this time—and delved into my body.

I clenched my jaw as the magic worked into my muscles. Raising my hand, I stared at it in wonder. Once again, I was flummoxed by the Trials’ magic.

My body looked the same, but I could feel the difference. I was stronger. I glanced down at my hobbled foot. Could the Trials heal it too? And if it can do that, what else can it do? My mind exploded with the possibilities.

Movement from the corner of my eye drew my attention and broke the spell. A murluk was advancing. Dismissing the Trials’ notices, I hefted my spear and got back to work.