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Pushing Back Inevitability

The God of War from the world of Efra, Roki, sets his eyes on Earth and begins the process of invasion. The dormant gods of our world stir for the first time in millennia to call forth mortals to push back against the inevitable. Lawrence Able is a failed writer; still living at home with his parents. He is by all accounts, a loser, yet still those fickle gods find some ember of potential in him and send him an invite in the form of a popup on his computer. Overhauling this series, as I'm not happy with certain things. I hope to see you all on the other one!

Tall_Owl · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
109 Chs

Abandoned

((Book 1 can be found here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CBZ331Y8?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks))

Where were they? My head throbs. Where were they? I look to the east, in the direction of the path that led down to the hunting lodge, yet no one was there. The sun had risen long ago; the dim gray light of it bleeding through the everfog covering the sky marked a new day. The archers had long since run out of arrows, picked up weapons, and joined the melee down below.

About 20 percent of our forces have died, and about 500 Efrans. It was a good ratio if this were an RTS, but it wasn't. Seeing people whom I had promised salvation be struck down brought waves of regret to my heart. Perhaps we should have made a break for it as soon as all of them were free. Perhaps we should have held out in a different spot; the outpost at the top of the hill comes to mind. There we could have concentrated our forces more and had the high ground for our archers to shoot from. There's no time to rest on maybes, however.

I glance at Nyt. Blood oozes down from her nostrils, and the wand shakes in her grasp. Fear paints her face. I glance at Joel and my father, down on the ground below. Their bodies twitched as exhaustion wreaked havoc across their bodies. The men next to me could barely stand. Weeks of being treated as human cattle had taken its toll on their bodies, and two days of fighting had taken its toll on mine. How was the General holding up? The break-off force of about 100 that had been sent out to flush him out of the woods had yet to come back. Was he still kicking? How about the reserve forces above the town by the outpost?

I was tired. So very tired. And I could see that tiredness echoed in the faces of every other person still standing. Where were they? My shield shatters to a blow of a mace to my head, I catch the creature's arm and yank it forward into my raised knee. The dogman's sternum cracks and it collapses into a heap down to the ground. Where were they? I bend down and pick up a shield, and bring it up to deflect the blow of a sword. I raise my wand and cast an Aether's Push into the creature's face. The ratman's pointed nose collapses inward, and it falls backward, then down off the catwalk as it is pushed aside by its comrades.

Had I been abandoned? No. Mark wouldn't do that, would he...no, he definitely would. Monica? William? Shawn? What were they waiting for? A blade slices a small line across my throat, and I quickly heal it before I bleed out. How about the apostle? How was he doing? I glance at him. He must be tired, right?

No. There was no sign of pain on his face. What was he? How could he cast so much so quickly? Equally as impressive was the sheer focus of the Ir countering each of the massive spells. How much longer can she hold out for, however?

Should I run? Should I just cut my losses, forgo the delusion that I was some hero, destroy the outpost, and escape out of the hunting lodge? I could do it. I could shift into Shadow's form, hop to the roof, and make it all the way to the outpost above the town and cast upheaval on it, burying it before splitting and darting to the hunting lodge. I could do it. I could, it'd be easy. I glance at my father. He wasn't very kind to me in the past, was he? Why should I risk my life for him? I glance at the men beside him. They would have mocked me a little over a month ago simply for being near them, wouldn't they? No one would know. Absolutely no one would know. I could spin stories of my heroic efforts. I could probably even gain some fame for it. No one would...

I take a step back as I raise my shield to block a blow from a blade.

"I call upon Zeus; lord of Olympus, lend me a bolt so that I might smite my enemy."

I cast the spell at his exposed flank. The blue bolt arcs out and strikes him. Hair and flesh sizzle and bubbles.

No. If I did that I would never be able to live with myself. I'll die with these people if I have to. The others could live with betraying me; I won't betray the trust of the people here who have fought and bled in ardent defiance against their fate. I step forward.

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

I focus for a moment, growing the ball of coalesced aether. It strikes two. One dies, the other has its arm snapped out of its socket. If I retreat now, and leave these people to die, I might as well kill myself; such a betrayal to my own humanity that would be. If I die? So be it. Death would be preferable to living like a snake. I'll take as many of these bastards down with me as I can.

"Dance before me o' djinn."

A whirling dervish of flame and wind spins out at my command and pushes the Efrans back a little as it sweeps past their front ranks. A spear slips past my defense and runs me through the shoulder, and staggers me for a moment. Do you think that's enough to kill me? I grab hold of the blood slickened spear and yank it from my shoulder, and slam my fist into the face of the attacker. I send the most exhausted members of my group back once more. Joel, my father, and the skinny man who looks extremely well rested, all things considered, comes up.

"When are they getting here?" Joel speaks in a hushed whisper as he lets me rest for a moment by raising his shield in front of me. I heal him, and the other two around me before starting on myself.

"They were supposed to be here hours ago," I answer. "I... I'm sorry."

The man grits his teeth.

"Fuck." He says.

"We should have run. You've killed us." The man who had confronted me twice the night before says. "You've killed us all. Bastard."

My father says nothing. Does he agree with that? I don't blame him. I got both him and my mother killed.

They had stopped sweating long ago. I had to. Blood and gore stained their bodies as I finish healing my shoulder and take my position at the front with the shield I had taken from a dead dogman raised in front of me.

Boom...crash.

"Forces, pull back!" The apostle calls with his booming voice.

The Efrans glance at one another, and then back away, clambering down their ladders. I glance at what had caused the noise. Threads of compressed still hang in the air above us like small clouds leading from the spike that Nyt had stood on, to the slanted roofs that stood at the edge of the little clearing. The Ir was laid out there, in the midst of shattered terracotta shingles.

We don't give chase, nor do we strike at the backs of our retreating foes. It takes all the energy we have just to stand. Once all of the army is out of the fort, I see Nyt shift slightly on the roof. I moved toward her to see if she was still alive.

"You have lost, rebels and apostle of Earth, but I am not cruel."

The booming voice slows my steps. It was true. We have lost.

"You have fought valiantly. Foolishly, yes, but valiantly nonetheless. Roki sees your valor and offers you life."

Excited mumbling breaks from those of the armies left.

"HOWEVER." The apostle shouts, "He needs, from you, a show of loyalty." I don't like where this is going, "Strike down one of your own and rush out here to pledge your loyalty."

Joel's body shifts forward ever so slightly as the point of a blade pokes out the back of his chest, stained red.

"You little..." He grips hold of the blade just in time for it to slide out of his chest; taking some fingers with it as it retreats back into the hands of the cowardly man.

"Joel!" I turn to the man; the grin on his face quickly melting away, "Bastard!"

The ex-green beret collapses forward; his heart blood pouring out on the ground in bright red floes. The man tries to make a run for it, but I grasp his shoulders. He turns around and slashes at me. With his strength, however, it feels like a slap in the face. I force him to his knees and snatch the sword out of his grasp. Running on pure adrenaline and rage, I lift the blade up over my head and grit my teeth. Joel was a good man. A good man who put his body on the line to protect his son. And what has this...this snake of a man done? This traitorous son of a bitch? In a moment he had robbed a son of his father.

"I'm sor—"

I swing the blade in a horizontal arc, and the man's head rolls off of his shoulder. Far too merciful than what he deserved. No one else moved, and not a sound was made on our side. I hold up the bloodied blade in the direction of the apostle.

"Just send those fuckers back over here," I point the blade at the army standing near him, then over back toward us. I take a moment to catch my breath before speaking again. "So we can finish killing them." I take a deep breath and steady my wavering breath, "After that, we'll come for you." I shift the point of the blade to the apostle.

A cheer breaks out from the people still standing behind me. Even from this distance, I could see the apostle's shoulders quiver.

"Insolence... I have graciously gifted you, INGRATES, with the chance at salvation, and, once again, you spit in my face."

He points his staff forward, and the ground begins to rumble.

"No more mercy for you. You will all die." A large mound, about a hundred yards across pushes up in the middle of the battlefield, "Those you kept from the fight will die, horribly, and cursing you for your stupidity."

The mound broke free from the earth, and a large orb of compressed earth floats in the air. As it floats over to us, long spikes begin to form over its surface, as if it were a datura plant's seed pod. Shit. I hop down and try to form an earth spike to intercept it on its way to us, but immediately a spike of earth catches me in the side, sending me reeling to the ground. My father rushes to me.

"Are you okay, son?" His eyes only briefly meet mine before they return to the monstrosity above us.

Ah, this is it. The orb of earth stops above us and hovers there for a moment. I steady my breath, and turn to my father who watches the orb — his skin painted white with fear.

"I love you Dad, and I'm sorry for everything I've done."

He turns to me, and a moment later before any more words had a chance to be spoken, the air ruptures as the orb explodes out in a thousand directions.