The Gamer Chapter 1189 – Liberation Campaign 3 – Big Group Action (Patreon)

They had run, only taking a break to drink, eat, and sleep, for over a day, to arrive at the fortress as quickly as possible. Now, the first group’s target became visible in the distance.

The northern of the four Cardinal Bastions stood at the border between plain and savannah. Approaching it from the west, John saw the green give way to a brownish, yellow landscape, the occasional palm tree scattered about. He would investigate them later. The trees in the Kingdom of Oppression produced only chunks that were either undomesticated or deliberately selected to be inedible. Perhaps the Kingdom of War would be different.

What he saw to the right of him was much more concerning. A line of shifting, triangular shapes rolled towards the southern horizon. It rose and fell, emitting baleful green light, like a mixture between waves, mountains, and polygons.

“Is that a leyline?” Rave asked.

“Probably something like it, but the colours are all wrong,” the Gamer responded. The largest leyline they had ever seen, the Atlantic Fuse, had been similar in the appearance of roiling triangles. However, it had shifted along the entire colour spectrum. This only had that sickening green of necromancy. “I guess the Cardinal Bastions serve as the funnel that sends mana to the Eternal Fortress.”

The target of their charge, and the starting point of this faux leyline, was a triangular fortification. One of its corners pointed south, like an arrow towards the Eternal Fortress. The tall walls were made from smooth, grey stone. Within that typically dull shell was a structure of sandstone, resembling an absurdly large mixture between an obelisk and a tower. At the very top of the structure, a light rose. It grew, then scattered. As they came closer, the individual points became more and more apparent.

The distance between them was large enough that the entire group had an easy time dodging the swarm of projectiles cutting through the new day. Thin rods of hard light penetrated the dirt. John grinned. ‘That confirms it,’ he thought. From previous interrogations he knew that the King of the north, Ronken of the Desert, was a light mage manifesting constructs using his magic. ‘We’ll act all jumpy out here, you take him out, Siena.’

‘I’ll do what pleases you – for now,’ the midnight elemental answered in a hushed whisper. She was already far ahead of the group. Her superior speed, trumped only by Sylph (and Rave, when she got serious), had allowed her to get all the way to the fortress already. Presence masked, she was scaling the walls, using her unnatural ability to adhere to surfaces with her clawed hand and high heels.

‘Booo!’ Metra complained. ‘Just let me at them!’

‘And let you destroy another tower filled to the brim with potentially vital information? I don’t think so,’ John reprimanded her with a chuckle, while taking a light attack head on. It broke effortlessly on Particle Skin, but he acted as if it was catapulting him back. Gnome and several others came over to create a wall around him. The rest kept charging, to put on their own distracting plays.

They were still advancing, just very slowly. As long as the King and whoever else was in the fortress was focused on them, that worked out for Siena. With little else to do, the Gamer tapped into the midnight elemental’s senses.

She skittered up the wall with the creepy smoothness of an arachnid. The consistent pace never slowed. Her tail was raised behind her, like the stinger of a scorpion.

Just as she reached the walkway atop the outer fortification, the rest of the group was stopped by an energy shield. Triangle by triangle, the energy that had poured down the faux leyline was redirected to create a defensive layer. ‘I guess Arkeidos gave orders to be cautious,’ the Gamer thought and watched Metra smash her weapon against the shield.

“I thought you were compassionate to creatures,” a booming voice reached John and the rest. “Would you tear down a shield fuelled by the life force?”

John clenched his teeth and looked through the semi-translucent green veil. The easy answer to that question was: yes, if it was the condition for a proper solution. Thankfully, he had already made this a more complicated situation. All he had to do was keep playing the distraction. Particularly easy when rage was boiling up in his throat. “COWARD!” he yelled, making Sylph boost his voice so it reached all the way to the top of the fortifications. “YOU IRONBORN HAVE NO HONOUR!”

“Honour exists between equals, invader!”

“And I’m your superior in every way!”

“We bask in the glory of the Emperor! His might reflects on us!”

While that back and forth went on, Siena invaded the fortress proper. ‘Oh, how I love to punish the greedy,’ she thought to herself, slowly creeping up on an Ironborn. By their somewhat decorated appearance, she deemed them a Baron. Her presence was masked, from her sight to the slight sound her high heels made on the stone with every hip-swinging step she took. She made it within an inch of the Ironborn’s face. She could have torn it off and dragged her sharp, blade-like claws further down to their core. She could have stabbed their heart with the crystal edge of her tail’s tip. She could have dismembered them, cut off their head, and left the immobile chassis lying there.

She could have ended them in a great number of swift or torturous ways.

‘What we deny ourselves for love,’ she sighed in her mind and slipped past the Baron, entering the hallway they guarded.

Inside, it became apparent very quickly that the stark difference between the smooth grey outside and the sandstone inside was not just aesthetic. The wear and tear of the stones and the easily spotted border between the segments pointed towards the walls having been erected a long time before what they guarded.

‘Uh, maybe they rebuild every time there’s a new monarch?’ Gnome suggested, keeping tabs on Siena just like everyone else who could. It was either that or keeping up with the Gamer’s shouting match, in terms of entertainment.

‘Maybe the siphoning fuckery was in place before and they just plopped down their luxurious bullshit on top?’ Salamander suggested.

‘Analysis: unlikely, the artificial leyline bears all the hallmarks of necromantic magic.’

‘Unlikely,’ Undine agreed, ‘yet not impossible. Arkeidos was born on this world and Mettle existed before he did. Necromancy may have been a tradition before.’

‘Agreed,’ Beatrice said.

‘A fucked-up world creating fucked up people,’ John groaned. ‘Well, if we find any books about the time before the Iron Domain, I’d be interested in reading that.’

A trio of patrolling servants blocked the corridor in front of the shadow spirit. They were two elves and one human, all of them with breathers attached to their faces. Their clothing was of vastly superior quality than what John was used to from this realm and their eyes reflected a degree of awareness that Mettle would not usually allow.

Siena swiftly scaled the wall in an effort to get out of their way. As unnoticeable as she was, if she bumped into someone, that would still give her away or at least make someone confused enough that they would consider raising the alarm. Upside down, she hung under the ceiling, her tail waving. Mortals treated well by Ironborn had to be potential Ironborn themselves, traitors to the rest of the struggling people of this world. It itched in Siena’s claws to make them move on from the mortal coil. Her tail came as close to them as her entire body had with the Baron earlier.

One of the two elves stopped. Siena felt a coldness inside her, the gleeful teasing replaced with the shock of potential failure. She moved her tail up and then stayed completely still. “A problem?” the human of the trio asked.

The elf looked around, narrow eyed. He directed his eyes towards the ceiling. Their eyes seemed to meet.

Siena did not take any chances.

She dropped down, her invisibility replaced by her Unleash. Her form became a shadowy version of itself, darkness drifting from her black curves, the surface swirling. With her boosted Agility, she executed the trio in a flurry of movements. The elf that had spotted her and the human died before she had hit the ground. Claws and tail sliced open their throats. A small noise escaped the second elf, then his throat as well was cut by Siena’s tail. They made a gargling sound, still too loud for Siena’s liking. A swipe by her claws later, she had properly cut off their head.

Hiding the bodies and the bloody stains they left behind would have taken more time than it was worth. Instead, the shadow spirit immediately resumed her movements, attempting to find a way up. If push came to shove, she could always scale up the outside of the building. It was just that she guessed that the King, being a level 471 light mage, would be able to see her coming. A first moment of surprise was incredibly valuable. Fighting them head on would not be easy for her.

‘That’s why you do not tease,’ John chided her.

‘It’s in my nature,’ Siena snapped back, less sensuous in her tone than usual.

‘Stuffing myself with Cheetos, mountain dew, and furiously masturbating are in my nature, and I do none of these things,’ the Gamer retorted. ‘Do better. For us.’

Siena did not respond, drowning her guilt in the current mission. She shrouded her thoughts from the others, but kept sharing her senses. Swiftly, she advanced, soon coming across a central chamber. A massive staircase wound both up and down. Several Ironborn stood around the chamber. She effortlessly weaved through them, then strutted up the stairs. As she ascended, her movements became slower and slower, until she was properly sneaking through, her presence as covered as she could manage.

The enemy Ironborn was over 30 levels below her. Still, an elemental was typically inferior in power to a denizen of the physical realms. In Stats, she was superior, John’s Observe had confirmed as much. He had taken the further precaution of raising the amount of his mana that went to Siena. By raising her to 199% of her mana cost, he increased her Main Stats by 49,5%. Going any higher would have started causing her to take damage from the overcharge. Even with that precaution, the magic of the King would have been, if not stronger, definitely larger in scope.

She needed to get the drop on them.

Emerging in another large chamber, Siena stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted a light elemental. It had the shape of a gleaming suit of armour, of regular human proportions and size. ‘Here I thought your kind would be too proud to work with tyrants,’ Siena reached out to Stirwin.

‘Power should be tempered – we do not all agree in service of what goal,’ the light spirit responded.

The elemental had not yet moved. It held a radiant blade, the tip resting on the ground. Still like a statue, its gaze was focused on the staircase, where Siena remained. Ever so carefully, the midnight elemental started moving. The eyes of light within the helmet did not follow her. Even if the light elemental before her shared the level of the King, something not guaranteed for anyone but the Gamer, they were likely of a lower Tier.

‘No overconfidence,’ Siena reminded herself and continued on at a conservative pace. There were several ways through the internal chamber. She took the path furthest away from the elemental. The apartment of the King, or whatever this assortment of chambers should be called, had three layers, each with four rooms, most of them filled with various research instruments and books. A couple others were filled with half-finished sandstone statues.

Siena paid no heed to any of that, only catching up on the rough looks of the environment during her search for the next flight of stairs. They were located between the rooms of the outermost layer. Each step a conscious effort, she made her way up. Ronken’s voice boomed her way before she emerged back outside.

“AND YOU, CURR, WILL KNOW OF THE DEPTHS OF YOUR INSOLENCE!”

John let out a volume-adjusted sigh. “By God, you Ironborn are all so incredibly moronic.”

“YOU- I WILL END YOU!” Ronken declared.

The steps led up to a platform. Surrounded by four pillars, which held up the very point of the obelisk, it was entirely barren. The smooth sandstone blocks made for excellent footing. Her target stood at the westward balcony. Much of his form was obscured by a flowing, beige cape that shimmered metallically from the spheres of light he conjured. The gold broke apart and a gesture by his grey and beige arm forged it into a construct of solid light.

Distracted by rage and magic, Ronken did not seem to notice Siena’s approach. Tail and claws at the ready, she got a little bit closer. A little bit closer still. Just a little bit closer. Always watching for any reactions on his part. Always weary that the magic he had conjured might suddenly turn to her.

Ronken launched his hard-light projectiles and Siena stormed ahead. The moment she moved faster, he noticed her presence. A cascade of brown hair flew around as he turned to face her. Enveloped in darkness, Unleashed, Siena went for his chest.

Her claws collided with a hastily created wall of light, but that was fine by her. Her tail was already curving over her shoulder and pierced the King’s left eye. He shouted something, but Siena did not have the luxury to perceive what it was. This was a fight on a timer. She had to kill him before any reinforcements, especially the elemental, could tip the scales.

The shield of light shot forwards, but Siena had already dived to his blind side. He tried to grab her, but his left hand only hit the air. She was more concerned about his right, conjuring a new sphere of light.

‘No pause,’ the shadow spirit thought and clawed at the King’s face again. She missed, but again her tail came in and secured a hit. It wrapped around one of his legs and pulled, toppling him over. A straight kick punched a hole in his shoulder, the point of the high heel perfect to break armour. She had to keep going, give him not even a second to balance his mental state or conjure his magic.

Dropping down on him, she recklessly clawed at his chest. A burst of light tore a chunk out of her sides, but Siena just kept on tearing into the chest. This was a question of time, nothing else mattered. She either succeeded in killing him swiftly or the mission was a failure, there was no in-between.

Ronken tried to grab her arms. Had he succeeded, his Strength would have matched hers and put them in a deadlock. With superior Agility, she managed to pull away each time before he managed to get her. He tried to throw her off, but well-aimed stings with her tail disrupted the integrity of his legs. With each strike digging towards the knot of wires that was an Ironborn’s heart, she weakened his control further. The eye was regenerated by now. Even her current gains did not allow her a victory should reinforcements arrive.

The light elemental entered the corner of her vision, just as she had torn open his chest and revealed the gem within the heart-shaped knot of metal. Metal flowed towards it, to cover it back up. At the cusp of victory, Siena smirked, her body riddled with holes, darkness rising from her like a mist. “Don’t be like that, let Siena in,” she giggled and then brought her tail down on the core.

Shadow clashed with light, a last desperate barrier erected by the King. Siena already had her claws at the ready, tearing into the barrier. She broke through, the light elemental charging in at her. The sword connected with her neck – and broke. Its summoner’s body was frozen, the lack of an animating soul returning the metal to its natural inertia. With the death of the King, the contract unravelled and the elemental dissipated into particles.

‘Good job, Siena,’ the Gamer reached out to her.

‘I’ll keep on going,’ the shadow spirit answered, trying to rise to her legs. She still had to find whatever provided the shield with energy. Halfway risen, she swiftly collapsed back down, however. The damage to her body was extensive. Her lifeforce, entirely magical, distributed equally through her riddled physical form in an attempt to close the holes. The shadowy mist that encapsulated her when she was Unleashed drifted off.

‘Take a moment,’ John told her.

‘Agony… the people fueling this must be in undue agony…’  Siena hissed, dragging herself towards the staircase.

‘Take it slow. Steady,’ John told her, his voice firm and insistent. ‘What have you learned from your time with me?’

The midnight elemental stopped and instead focused on sitting upright. ‘Good intentions do not guarantee a good outcome,’ she groaned, and waited.

‘Do this right,’ John said in an agreeing tone. ‘There’s nothing else in that fortress that can stop you. Find the barrier key, when you are ready to cut all of the Ironborn down.’

Siena nodded to herself.