"They're everywhere! They're out for blood," one of the mages cried.
"We can't hold on much longer."
"What was that shaking?"
"The moon, look at the moon!"
Magic: mysterious or supernatural forces influencing a course of events. Decades of arcane practice could not begin to explain, in Lance's mind, the unnatural phenomenon unfolding before his very eyes. It was as if he had stepped into an ancient epic, a myth. Hordes of demons, frothing at the mouth, flew through the gaping hole in the ceiling and were silhouetted by bloody moonlight.
"All units, charge!" Zolgon bellowed. "I want every angle to be swarming with my army! Those damned crystal barricades can no longer stop us! Make them suffer! Make them pay! The Head Mage was just a start!"
Glenin Ostroch lay dying along with a dozen others. The mages readied magic circles out of habit but hesitated, looking for someone to take orders from. Frey walked to the front of the formation and tapped his poleaxe on the ground. "What are you waiting for, someone to avenge the Head Mage? Fire! You're still alive, aren't you?"
With the ceiling blown off by the earlier beam of destruction, a new form of battle had emerged. Demons stretched their wings and flew over the shotty defenses. The few mages that could hit their mark knocked them back down. Most other spells disappeared into the night sky. "K-keep going," one of the instructors attempted to encourage with empty words. "Stop missing. We can still do this." Other instructors barked out different orders and confusion quickly plagued the headless group.
Lance sat on the ground next to his master, drained emotionally and physically. 'Has hell opened up, and we're just the first thing in their way? What did we do to deserve this? Why did master Glenin fall so suddenly?'
A sudden inhale pulled his attention over to Glenin. The life hadn't completely left his eyes, yet.
"Master," Lance said as he hurried over and knelt to his side. "What happened? What spell was that? What should I do? I still have so many questions."
"As do I. I guess I've gotten older," Glenin whispered, staring up at the chaotic night sky. He grabbed onto Lance's shirt. "But no matter what has happened, you still need to listen to me. I don't have much longer."
Lance glanced at the approaching army before leaning closer. "Tell me what to do like you always do, please."
"Run. Take everyone and run away." Glenin's strained voice softened. "You should have regained enough mana by now. Get them out."
"But, this is my home."
"It was your...home," Glenin muttered. "No longer."
"What are you saying?" Lance exclaimed. "I have lived serving this academy."
"Not anymore, not after you betrayed us." Glenin gestured towards the oncoming army. "Where are our reinforcements? Why did you come back, if not to lie to me, just like my first apprentice? Why did you bring the key to the enemy? Why, Lance, why?" He fell back. His last words left alongside his last breath.
A single tear streaked down Lance's cheek as he gently closed Glenin's narrowed eyes. He wiped it onto his ink-stained sleeve, recalling how many other tears he had shed over the academy and his studies. 'I only wanted to trust again.' He took a deep breath and stood up, emotionally numb. Spells and curses rained down and he just stood still.
"It's a damned shame," a familiar voice said as someone put a hand on Lance's shoulder.
"You're conscious?" Lance asked, snapping out of the trance.
"Of course I'm conscious," Trenton responded. "I'm not about to leave you alone in this mess and I'm certainly not going to try to blame you for it," He scowled at Glenin's still body.
Lance sighed: "You heard that?" Trenton nodded.
They both ducked as a smoking demon flew overhead. It landed in front of them and reeled back a sword. Down came Frey's poleaxe, splitting the creature's skull. "Have either of you seen my friends?" He asked and, upon the two mages shaking their heads, he rushed off.
Lance stepped back from the corpse: "I really shouldn't have come back. Master was right."
Trenton shrugged. "Probably, but what's done is done. We have to keep moving or we'll end up just like this demon."
"You've got a plan?" Lance asked.
Trenton shook his head. He reached down, plucked the staff from the Head Mage's hands, and shoved it into Lance's arms. "I don't but you might, Head Mage Lance. What are your orders?"
"Orders?" Lance asked. His jaw dropped. "Wait, you can't be serious. Just because I have the staff doesn't mean that I-"
"Lance," one of the instructors said as they approached. "We're about to be overwhelmed. I want to use the Watchmen and Elementals to stall for time."
"Uh, well," Lance hesitated.
"Don't do that," another instructor butted in. "We need to hold that line at all costs. We should blast the army with everything we have, before that beam comes down again."
"Silence," Trenton barked, shutting them both up. "It's Lance's decision to make." All eyes went to Lance, who examined the surroundings.
Demons rushed from the northern end of the mess hall into a hail of deadly spells and Watchmen. Students and instructors switched between firing and recuperating behind idle Elementals. Inaccurate spells wasted precious mana, a much more prevalent problem, ever since the demons had taken to the air. Even if they stalled the beam would come for them again.
Lance tapped his staff against the ground: "As the newly instated Head Mage of the Acrin Magic Academy, these are my orders: fall back to the south-west corner; have the Elementals and Watchmen cover our backs. We can't fend the demons off anymore. The earth Elementals will erect barriers. The wind Elementals will clump the airborne demons for easier shots. The water Elementals will push the enemy back." The Watchmen responded to his will and the mages responded to his words.
Windless night air swirled around the demons, clumping them up for a single spell to take them down. Ground troops vanished behind great walls of stone. Jet streams shunted the closest demons back from whence they came. The remaining Watchmen engaged anyone who slipped under the defenses. As Lance turned to follow the retreating mages a figure caught his eye: an fallen angel.
The angel wrapped herself in two grey wings before bouncing off the ground. The two wings peeled back to reveal Elero, beaten and bloody. In her arms was an unconscious Thomas.
"By the goddess," Lance and Trenton gasped.
The slightly-chubby boy had been reduced to skin and bones as if he hadn't eaten in a month. His mouth hung open because there were too many fangs and teeth to shut it. His skin - now red like a demon's - dripped with blue blood, making him appear more monster than man.
Elero stood and carefully lifted him up. "I told you to pull back, you idiot," she cried as the wings vanished.
"There you are," Frey exclaimed as he ran over, covered in blood that was not his own. "Is he…"
"I don't know. It's hard to tell" Elero sighed. "Regardless, I didn't want to leave him there." She turned to Lance. "What are you thinking, retreating like this? I thought we were going to stand our ground and protect the vault!"
Lance shook his head. "And I thought reinforcements were coming. Guess we were both wrong-"
"What the hell?" Frey cut him off.
"I gave Cerlius all the time we had," Lance explained. "He still isn't here."
"Are you saying he would have lost?" Frey insisted. "That's not possible."
"I'm saying he's not here," Lance stated. "The demons are going to overrun us at this rate. Besides, having the vault is useless if they don't have the key, which only I have. Furthermore the south-west corner is untouched. We have no reason not to retreat and we can't fight much longer. Just look at your friends." He paused, waiting for Frey to interrupt him with another argument. "Well, am I wrong?"
Frey and Elero exchanged a look, then watched the demons as they changed the tide of battle. The remaining Watchmen crumbled under the oncoming horde. The spells fending the demons off were nowhere near as potent, nor as numerous. "No…"
Lance pulled his hood over his face. "I see…" He turned towards the south-western corner and repeated his order: "Let them take the center." As they got closer, an icy fog rose from behind a cracked door. No student nor instructor had casted a spell. No demons leapt out. That's when he sensed them: a few dozen magic signatures of the dark element.
'Did I imagine it,' he thought as the signatures disappeared. 'No, that's not something that I just imagined. If I'm right then they were almost at the north side.' He smiled and raised his staff one more time. "Change of plans."
As he turned, he witnessed a swarm of demons engulf the statue of Maximus Draken they had just abandoned. The mages ran as fast as their legs could carry them. There was no more room for debate. Arrows rained down upon them, most of which were dispersed by the wind Elementals, others hitting home in the students' backs. Frey and Elero covered the retreat by dashing into the crowd but the two of them could barely keep their heads above water.
'If I'm wrong about this…' Lance thought. 'There's a risk I'll lose everything no matter if I fight or run, but I have much more to gain if I'm right.' With determination burning away shadows of doubt, eight magic circles formed around him.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢