PW Chapter 291: The Immortal (Patreon)

Borus 

Taking deep, measured breaths, Borus reached out to the faint threads of higher bloodline that lingered at the edges of his perception. Although there were stories of bloodlines where Sorcerers were forced into a single Class, Borus wasn’t one of those. Instead, his family simply had a greater attunement to magic, which blessed him with the source of his Class in the first place.

Different from those other bloodlines, Borus had the choice of what possibility he wanted to follow. When he had evolved to Iron, he’d been given the opportunity to become a Wizard, actually. Obviously, his dedicated studies had been impressive enough to the Great One to merit such a thing. However, in the end, studying was merely an opportunity to better understand true magic. Wizards had to study to beg for power, while Sorcerers were themselves a fount of magic. It was obvious what anybody with a brain would choose.

Instead of throwing away his potential, he’d taken the rare rarity Astral Sorcerer Class, which hadn’t fully solidified what his bloodline would be. Steel seemed like it would be a good time to make that decision, now that he had narrowed his focus somewhat, though if there wasn’t anything satisfactory presented at that point, he could wait until Mithril to settle on a particular option. At that point, surely he would have a bloodline worthy of his stature offered.

Finally sensing what he was looking for, Borus punched his right hand forward, piercing through the weave of reality. He could feel his life draining away as he overreached, but the echoes of a superior being remained. Taking a firm grip, he yanked backwards and hauled the glowing thread from the ether. He opened his eyes wide, taking in the sight. A wriggling thread remained in his blackened fist, moving like a serpent, though it itself was only a rippling wake left in the passage after a greater creature moved past.

As he held it, the thread twisted and bit into his forearm, then slipped inside of him. His chest heaved in pain, but this was exactly what he was trying to do in the first place. The sigils he painted across his body glowed and snuffed the rebellion from the invading remnant of a bloodline. As the item became a reservoir of power for him, Borus grimly watched as the golden glow faded from his arms. If he so desired, he knew he could make it appear again, but that would be wasteful. What he had was limited, and to just waste it on meaningless displays would be idiotic.

But all that was something to worry about another day. Instead of continuing to seclude himself in his study, he walked out. He’d lost track of the time, and the bright light of midday greeted him. From the controlled environment of his study, the changing of the seasons didn’t matter much, but, ostensibly, he was a member of the fourth caster’s battalion. He did have a few responsibilities around here which were the result of some of the luxuries he was afforded. Unfortunately, it truly seemed that the border guard didn’t appreciate his stature and potential.

Instead of continuing to lament his fate, Borus decided to show some of his better breeding as he walked out. His uniform pulled fetchingly against his chest and shoulders, and he clasped his hands behind his back as he enjoyed the striking figure he knew he presented. His path forward took him past the mundane soldiers, those without the ability to cast any magic. Truly, the plebeians were pitiful, and Borus took special care to look down upon them and let them know that, despite their inferiority, he could appreciate their role as the expendables.

As his path took him onward, he saw the tents of the scouting regiment and couldn’t help but clench his jaw against the swell of fury as he saw Liesl’s tent. No doubt she continued to share it with that soft-minded major. Of course she was using her appearance to twist her way to the top. It was shameful, but he supposed he couldn’t truly begrudge her that. She was only a Ranger, and foolish on top of that. He’d given her an opportunity to hitch her wagon to a horse that would lead her to superiority, and instead, she’d insulted him. Surely she was off, running around and risking her life because of her foolish, misplaced pride.

He scoffed, but went to report to his commanding officer. Ludwig Magister was good enough, but had fully bought into the whole military thing. Instead of understanding his position as a leader among men, he tried to soften his words and tell the people that the caster battalion was equal to the rest. It was pure foolishness, but, given that he was Borus’s commander, there was not much that he could say or do. Instead of engaging in the same conversation that they had dozens of times, Borus simply gave his casual salute and looked at Ludwig with raised eyebrows.

“I’m glad you’re here. We’ve had a few people retreat back to the capital since the revolution was put down, so, starting today, I want you to accompany me to every leadership meeting we have.

“And before you say anything,” Ludwig raised a hand, making Borus close his mouth, “no, this is not to make you second in command of the caster battalion. Instead, this is, more than anything, a simple administrative position. Do not attempt to leverage this brief assignment as a position of authority or power, because that will subject you to disciplinary action. Simply do as I tell you to, and there will be no problems. Understood?”

Borus managed to hold back his sigh and instead just nodded in agreement.

“Good. The scouting battalion has sent word that there will be news to be presented to the entire garrison with regards to the movements among the Hordes. There, it will be your place to listen. Do not speak. The only exception to that is if I specifically ask you a question. By that, I mean, if I turn to you, speak your name, and ask you a question. In that case, you will answer just the question that I asked, and you will do so in the most expedient manner possible. Even if somebody else calls you by name, do not answer unless I specifically echo the question and ask you. Do you understand?”

Borus couldn’t help himself and rolled his eyes as he gave a theatrical sigh. Unfortunately, everybody else in the army tended to get a little bit testy when they were confronted with the facts of their own ineptitude. There had been an instance in which Borus had taken it upon himself to teach one of the ignoramuses about everything that they were missing, but apparently, they’d been unwilling to be taught. From there, plenty of others had begun fearing for their own egos when he came near.

“Yes, yes, I will only speak under those circumstances,” Borus said airily. Really, how this army continued to function was an absolute mystery.

“For my own benefit,” Ludwig said, maintaining eye contact, “repeat to me exactly what the circumstances under which you are allowed to speak are.”

“Only if you specifically tell me to speak.”

“Only if I call you by name and ask for an answer. Borus, I cannot preserve your position if you do not follow this command.”

A part of him was tempted to purposefully do the opposite of what he was told, just so he could escape from this oppressive place. Unfortunately, there were no better opportunities available to him right now. What with the whole rebellion that had happened, travel was limited, and most people were untrusting of newcomers. As such, Borus said everything that Ludwig wanted to hear and followed along with the Steel-tier man towards the meeting.

Along the walls of the border separating Humanity’s Bulwark from the Plains of the Hordes, the army had created effectively a long, narrow city that stretched along the entire border. Along the southern border stretched walls, all of them at least twenty meters high and five meters thick, and, on the few occasions that Borus had been forced to scale them, he had been duly impressed with the menial labor done by whatever Earthmages had done the work. It was all uniform, with palisades, murderholes, every bit of the fortress that the menial soldiers needed. It stretched for thousands of kilometers, as far as he knew, and every step of the way was manned by the majority of the soldiers that Humanity had.

Not for the first time, Borus lamented not having gone to fight in the revolution. He wasn’t sure what side he would have followed, since he’d join whichever one had offered him the greatest benefits, but surely one of them could have seen his potential as well as his current strength. After all, he had a rare Iron-tier Class and was well on his path to reach the peak of Iron with max-level Skills. That ought to be enough to garner him no small amount of favoritism, but you could never tell with leadership so focused on numbers instead of quality.

Then, they arrived at the squat building where the commands for this particular battalion were typically issued. It was a sturdy building, prepared to defend against ambushes and any sort of artillery shot over the walls. They were ugly, but with reinforcement being their purpose, they served well. Ludwig announced his presence as he entered, and Borus could see and feel the eyes fall upon him as everybody stared. Yes, he was deserving of such attention, but he could show that he was able to be commanded, so long as his commander was worthy of it.

They settled into their seats and waited for the meeting to begin. Ludwig started conversing quietly with the man beside him, the commander of… was that the infantry? Borus could never remember what the various designations were, because all of the other battalions had the same goal: to protect the casters as they did the real work. It wasn’t more than two minutes before people started to perk up and fell silent. Just a few seconds later, the representatives of the scouting battalion stepped in. With them, to the frustration of Borus, as well as any other reasonable person, walked Liesl.

She, as always, was shadowing her commanding officer, walking with feigned importance. Just giving information that anybody could have seen. As if it took something special to have eyes.

With a force of effort, Borus hid his displeasure with the woman. Instead, he did as he was commanded and simply waited for the information they were going to receive. It would be, he was sure, exactly what everybody expected. Even so, both of the scouts carried themselves as if their assignments carried some measure of importance. It took everything he had not to mention everything he and any other caster could do to make their jobs redundant, but he held himself back.

“We will be brief,” the scout commander said. What was his name again? He couldn’t remember, and the captain continued speaking before Borus could lose himself in thought.

“We have less than an hour before a probing force will arrive at the walls. Behind it marches a larger army, one that, to our eyes, seems to have several high Steel tier combatants, and under the command of at least two Mithril tiers.”

Quiet curses filled the air at that news. It wasn’t particularly good, but Borus couldn’t understand the fear. On a battlefield like this, any single Barbarian couldn’t begin to compare to a single Mage of their same tier, to say nothing of the other, better casters. The idiots eschewed magic, which was why they always failed to cross the walls. Their Shamans, with their blood offerings, couldn’t begin to compare to what some of the truly elite people could do. Borus was sure that he could compare to a Steel tier Shaman.

“We will prepare for battle,” the commander sitting beside Ludwig said. “I’ll have all my men prepared to march in the next ten minutes.”

“Ludwig,” the scout commander started to say, and the Mage battalion Commander raised his hand.

“Don’t worry. I will send news to the higher-tier command center immediately.”

He didn’t say anything more as he opened his grimoire and scribbled a quick message. As soon as he had done so, he ripped the page out and threw it forward. A void appeared in front of the paper and, with a crackle, the message was gone. Commands continued to fly from people’s lips, and, again, Borus had to fight to keep his mouth shut. After all, there were dozens of people who panicked at these words, each of whom lacked any confidence or understanding of the magic that would save all of their lives.

Not a minute passed before the response to Ludwig’s communication returned. In the same way that his words had gone, a rent in the air appeared just long enough for a sheet of paper to fly out. Ludwig snatched it from the air and started reading aloud.

“Hold for as long as you can. Another army is pressing in the north, of similar strength. Reinforcements have been sent north; we will send more towards you as soon as possible.”

For a moment, silence settled over the room before Elincia, the highest Steel-tier Commander of this section of the wall, slapped her hand on the table. As she did so, her armor appeared over her entire body, and she stood.

“There’s our orders. Get in position. You’re not leaving the walls until your death or the Barbarians are gone.”

Then, she stepped out of the room, her voice booming as soon as the door was open. Calls to the soldiers echoed over the settlement, and Borus shook his head, glad that he wasn’t going to have to man the walls as well as everybody else.

“Come with me,” Ludwig said, standing and rushing out of the room right behind the commander. Borus followed, his self-confident smile burning away as he realized that Ludwig was calling the same commands that everybody else was, the call to arms to stand up upon the walls.

“What are we doing?” he asked, his voice rising in an unwillingly thready tone.

“We’re getting onto the walls to protect our country,” Ludwig replied, not even looking at Borus. Instead, he pulled the sheet of commands from headquarters, slipped it between the sheets of his grimoire, and slammed it closed. As he did so, dozens of pages flew out of the book and flitted through additional tears in the air.

“Our place isn’t—”

“Listen, you insufferable prig,” Ludwig cut him off. “I’ve dealt with you for years. As far as I know, I’m the only person within a hundred kilometers who can stand being in your presence for longer than five minutes, and I don’t enjoy it. In the past, you haven’t been required to get up there, but now, the situation is dire enough that even insufferable fart sniffers like you can’t sit on the back line and act like you’re better than everybody else. So, shut up, get on the line, and if you need to die to make sure that all of the civilians behind us don’t, then that’s what you’re going to do, and nobody’s gonna have to hear you continue your complaining about it.”

“My position is not—”

Ludwig wheeled around, picked Borus up by the throat, and choked him without hesitation. Borus started to activate a Skill, his spells unavailable while he couldn’t speak. As soon as he did so, Ludwig twisted and slammed him to the ground. Borus tasted blood as several of his ribs cracked.

“Your ‘position’ is to shut up and listen. The next time I hear you complaining, I’m just going to throw you over the walls to the Barbarians. You’ll be more useful out of the way, and nobody would begrudge me that. This is your last chance.”

Ludwig didn’t say anything more as he started to jog towards the walls. He glared at Borus as he hacked and tried to catch his breath on the ground. For a moment, Borus considered saying something, but instead, he took Ludwig’s words at face value, his face burning in shame. He considered any one of a dozen paths of revenge as the minutes trailed past. Losing himself in such machinations saved him from feeling the terror of being forced into a position where he didn’t belong. 

Then, there was the sound of drums. 

Echoing beats approached from the horizon, and dust billowed as the Barbarians rushed towards the walls. Borus’s stomach shook under the vibrations of their war cries, and he felt his heart rate accelerate. 

“This is beneath me,” he muttered as he started to summon a sigil above his head. Before it could go far, Ludwig stopped the channeling of the spell.

“You’re way too early,” he snapped at the Sorcerer. “You’re just wasting your mana. Wait to do anything before you’re commanded.”

“It’s better to—”

Before Ludwig could turn his attention to Borus entirely, though, the Sorcerer shut his mouth. There wasn’t any reason to antagonize the brute right now. Then, The horde drew closer, their voices raised in blood-chilling screams. They were only a hundred meters away, and Borus started his channeling even though nobody had said anything yet. 

“You idiot—”

Ludwig’s insults were cut off as he twisted his head towards the ground inside of the walls. He whispered something about, “the Immortal,” but Borus had no idea what that was. A moment later, Borus felt the reason why the older soldier did that, and looked back as well.

A single figure wearing nearly black armor rushed forward, so quick that Borus couldn’t see them clearly. Then, while he tried to figure out how to respond, the armored individual flew into the air, some ten meters higher than the twenty meter walls. There, they paused for a brief moment before beginning to glow with a blue light. Then, they smashed into the ground some thirty meters beyond the walls with an explosion that shook the walls. 

“I challenge you!” the armored figure said in a feminine but husky voice. “Your greatest Mithril tier warrior against me! If you win, we’ll surrender this area to your control. If I win, you all retreat!”

“This idiot,” Borus shouted. “She’s going to get us all killed!”

Again, Ludwig didn’t hold back and backhanded Borus. He fell to the ground and looked up at his commander, who shook his head in disgust.

“That’s the Astrid the Wandering Immortal,” Ludwig snapped. “She’s killed a dozen Adamantium tiers as a low Mithril. She’s a full party in a single body, and you’ll respect the woman whose presence shifted the tide of the battle against the Marchioness. Now, she’s going to get us out of this war all by herself.”