The Accidental Archmage Edmund Batara (books you have to read .txt) đź“–
- Author: Edmund Batara
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spell on each.
“Men, there will be another attack after they get their bearings. Same warning
procedure as before. Bring out the light spheres. I am going to change them to fireball
spheres but will thicken their walls. If any get too close, start throwing them. They
would need a strong impact to explode. Be very careful with them and make sure
they’re not in the line of fire from enemies. We still have enough arrows?”
As the two nodded, he was already changing the light spheres in front of him. He had
included the ones he kept with him. He was already worried that the next wave of
attackers may be able to surmount the low cliff and try to fight up the blocked trail.
With that done, he went back to his vantage point. As he looked at the mess in front of
him, he found the wagons already passing through. Ten of them have survived the
Scarburg catapults. The jotnar catapults were also closing in from behind.
OH, FREAK ME!
He had to make a decision. Hitting the wagons gave the enemy below a chance to find
out where he was. Though the jotnar and dokkalfr knew the clearing was held by
enemies, he doubted if they expected that he would be able to wreak the devastation
he did on the host below him. The distance was too great for ordinary mages.
Hell, nobody lives forever anyway, he said to himself, better go out with a lot of boom-boom!
He created spheres at the front of the moving wagons, five carts at a time, filled with
the strongest energy his will could muster. The result was spectacular, to say the least.
A sequence of thunderous explosions rocked the field. Wheels, wagon debris, mantlet
pieces, burning fascines, and carcass parts went up the air. Again, it was a staggering
sight. From a distance, they looked like toys a disturbed child exploded with fireworks.
Reminded him of that cartoon movie. The thunderous explosions definitely will attract
attention but there is still a slim chance the enemy will blame the catapults of the
defenders.
Turning his attention to the arriving jotnar catapults, he saw they have stopped and
stayed just outside the kill zone of their Scarburg counterparts. They were already
starting to position the siege equipment, the animals being led to one side. They have
better range if they’re going to fire from that position. He knew that unless he took care
of those war machines, then the town could be battered at will. But they were a bit far.
He originally intended not to burn them but destroy them in a way that pieces of the
catapults would block or at least hinder the progress of the siege towers.
This is turning out to be a day of surprises.
He experimented with a small AWAY! spell against one of the catapults. He could see it
rock from the spell but he couldn’t see any discernable damage. It appeared that some
of his spells lose potency and strength with distance. SHIT! FIREBALLS IT IS! As there
were six catapults, he decided to deal with them one by one to make sure of their
destruction. Again, he created a fireball sphere at the front of one catapult. But when
he ignited it, it merely damaged the massive front of the catapult. Some parts caught
fire but were quickly doused by the crew.
Focusing his eyesight to the best he can, he saw that the catapult was protected by a
massive metal shield in front of the machine. He cursed in frustration. He then created
a single large fireball blade in the shape of a spearhead and flung it at the top of the
catapult. When it exploded, he saw the satisfying sight of the machine on fire while
crumbling into its component pieces. The shrapnel effect he didn’t count on anymore as
he was facing timber and iron, not flesh and blood. The crews he merely deemed
collateral damage. The machines were what mattered.
He did the same attack on a second and third catapult. Then he suddenly had to stop.
Vertigo had set in. He now clearly felt the physical fatigue and his mind was starting to
lose its focus. Casting another healing spell on himself, he destroyed the other
catapults. But he noticed that his reaction was slowing. It took longer for him to form
and infuse the shape with the needed energy. By the fifth casting, he found he had to
concentrate just to keep his mind on what he was doing. He had to exert more effort to
maintain his concentration for the sixth and last blade. After that, he closed his eyes and tried to rest. His head hurt a lot and he loosened his grip on the staff. He felt so
weak. He wanted to sleep. Mercifully, his conscience kept its silence. He couldn’t deal
with such angst now.
And he still had siege towers to deal with. A larger army. Another attack through the
burned forest. And a possible attack mounted directly against his vantage
position. FREAK THEM.
CHAPTER XV
Rumpr
He was flitting in and out of consciousness. His body wanted to close shop and rest but
something in his mind wouldn’t allow it. A part of his awareness found the reaction
strange.
He vaguely remembered that incidents of extreme displays of magical expenditure
always led to his body shutting down. As he was struggling with the opposing impulses
in his mind, he noticed Jorund had snuck into the tarp.
“My lord, you don’t seem well.”
“You know I am really not comfortable with that “my lord” deal, Jorund.” His thought
process was on punch-drunk mode. He noticed he was starting to lose attention on the
subject.
“Uuuhhh, what I mean is you look as if you can’t fight anymore, my…..” Jorund
stopped, trying to accommodate him.
“Oh, the fighting. No, I don’t think we can fight here anymore. We can still fight but not
here. We need to rest,” Tyler was starting to slur his sentences. With a final effort, he
closed his eyes and focused on what he was going to say.
“Any enemies in the clearing?”
“None for now. But once they report back, a larger force will be sent.”
“All right. Here’s what we do. Gather all the arrows we have left.
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