"The Last Resort."

((Book 1 if this is your first time here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZZBHBMF))

About a quarter of the climbing army was buried beneath the wave of mud released from the spell; and the other 3/4 had been pushed back down in retreat so that they, too, weren't buried beneath the rolling mass of earth. Blood trickles down my nose and into my mouth. I was hoping to bury more of the dogmen, but even some of those that I had buried were clawing and fighting their way free from the bounds of the earth. The sheen of the white PVC pipes sticks out of the upturned earth like long-buried bones exposed to the air. They were a key part of what William called, 'the last resort.' I don't know where he got all the pipes; he just kept pulling them out of his satchel.

Was it time to use it? I glance into the air. No. Not yet. I would use it to cover our retreat and to ensure that the most amount of damage could be done all at once, as once we use it, we would no longer have a way to slow them down. It was tempting — even the thought of casting a spell sent waves of pain through my brain. I shove the cane into my front pocket, and bend down and pick up William's discarded spear near the foot of a dead dogmen, and a shield that we had put in the pile by the door.

"Keep your head down, William," I say; wincing as I step forward to the edge of the hill.

The White Wolf barks out an order, and those that had retreated begin to climb again. From their ranks, a half dozen windwalkers rise and begin to climb the hill at a quicker speed than the rest. I steady myself. It takes only half a minute for the first of the windwalkers to crest the hill. It lunges forward in a slash aimed at me with its scimitar. I raise the shield and stab forward with the spear. The spear's reach wins out in the end; even with the slight height advantage, and the point drives forward beneath the dogman's collarbone. It whines as it falls, and yanks the spear from my grasp. With its death, a resurgence of strength fills me for the third time during this battle. The thudding ache in my head fades a little; just enough to fire off a couple of spells, I figure. I draw the cane from my pocket and raise my shield once more just in time to catch the downward blow of a scimitar. The edge parts the metal rim and slides down following the grain of the wood. Its edge bites at my knuckles before the swing stops.

I point the cane into the groin of the creature.

"You that bind the all, move for me."

A heavy thud slams against the crotch of the creature, who somersaults forward out of the air and to the ground. It whines as it rolls around on the ground before I put a stop to it by ramming what remained of the shield onto its throat. The shield breaks apart, and I grab hold of the scimitar to await the next strike, but it never came. No. Everything was still.

The army — that had climbed up to about halfway up the hill; half of which were currently standing over 'the last resort,' had stopped in its tracks, and were watching the skies. William was as well; a look of ecstasy across his muddied face. I follow his gaze. The veil of clouds parts, and down from the heavens came to the distant silhouette of Monica; pulling down the godbeast. She adjusted their trajectories with small steps, and the winds howled at her descent. A shadow began to form in the middle of the still army.

The White Wolf watched as well and grimaced. It barks another order and the army begins to charge forward once more in a mad dash up the hill before the death of the godbeast closes this area in thick fog. Most of the army, however, begins to scatter, as Monica maneuvers around the head of the creature and pulls up its neck so that its chest absorbs the blow of the fall.

Boom.

I fight to keep upright as the godbeast slams against the ground right in the middle of the climbing army.

"Lawerence!" A voice through the cloud of dust kicked up from the impact calls. "Light it! Now!"

Monica's silhouette cuts through the cloud of dust as she hurries toward us in the air.

I know immediately what she means, and I glance frantically around the ground. William picks up his bag, pulls the camera free from the mount, and tucks Shadow under his arm as he runs towards the door. I pick up my kris, sheathe it, and pick up the wick nearby beneath the body of the windwalker buried in now cold ash. It was lucky that a stray ember didn't light it.

I put my cane to it and hurriedly whisper the incantation to fire bolt. A small flame flickers to life at the end of it, and begins to eat away at the fat and oil-soaked rope. From the center of the dogman mass, I could see the silhouette of the White Wolf push his way through towards the climbing Monica. Nearing her with every passing moment. As she passed through the dust, so did he; bursting out of the front rank of the army who she strode so high over, and with one bounding step, he grabbed hold of her ankle and pulled her to the ground.

"Monica!" William calls.

Monica rolls over onto her back, and the White Wolf raises its large, black falchion to stab downward to pierce her through.

"You that bind the All, guard me against those that would cause her harm."

I now only could cast two more spells. Maybe. The blade is slowed by the shield, but not stopped. Monica takes a deep breath and exhales. A gust of wind blasts out from her mouth, and forces the White Wolf to take a step back and cover his eyes as the dirt kicked up. There were only a few moments left before the 'last resort,' went out, and even now the Godbeast was beginning to stir.

I begin to incant something, but she was quicker on the draw. She quickly pulls her leg back just as he's recoiling from the blast of air in his face, and in a moment she's free, and sprinting up the hilltop. The White Wolf gives chase.

"Oh, thou invisible beings that dwell within all, slow the steps of all those before me."

I point the cane forward again, and the ray of Slow collides against the White Wolf, and Monica breaks away. The White Wolf turns his hate-filled gaze toward me and snarls.

For good measure; before the fireworks...

"By the order of Gob, king of the spirits of the earth, I order you, oh gnomes, seize my enemies."

An earthen hand reaches out from the ground and grabs hold of the creature's thigh, and I smirk arrogantly at the White Wolf as Monica grabs my arm and pulls me to the safety of the wall. William ducks and covers his ears, and curls over Shadow. Monica and I follow suit; plugging our ears before the whole world shakes in another resounding BOOM.

Before we laid all of the traps; William, with the help of Create Hole filled an entire crater with explosives of various types — pipe bombs, Molotov cocktails, grenades, dynamite, firecrackers, as well as a variety of ones that I didn't know the names of. He had us bury it, and that probably took up most of the day.

A column of fire spits out from the earth, and the shockwave carries up the hill. The orange glow temporarily bathes the hilltop, and as soon as it fades, Monica and I watch as William stands and pushes through the door. She follows soon after him, and I after her. Taking one last glance at the carnage. Half of the army had been consumed by the flames and shrapnel and lay dead in shattered heaps. Smoldering body parts lay strewn around the edges of the crater that had formed; while shredded bodies lay in scattered rings tens of feet away. Viscera falls from the sky over what remained of the Dogman army, and I look to the White Wolf who was struggling to push himself up from the ground.

Even from this distance, I could see the shrapnel embedded in his back. He pushed himself off the ground before collapsing again; spitting up a lungful of blood. As I step through the door I feel his hatred-filled gaze follow me out.