Danche could hardly believe his eyes.
What did he just witness?
His tribe’s strongest, smartest, and most loyal chimera had been slain by the foe in less than a single exchange!
He roared as if his eyes would split.
That was the chimera he had raised from infancy, painstakingly trained. It was robust and intelligent, picking up battle techniques and tactics with ease, even willing to accept armor—arguably the finest chimera in the tribe’s history!
He’d dreamed of conquering enemies at its side, sweeping away all foes and bringing honor and power to his clan. Never did he imagine that today, the Barbary he placed all his hopes upon—before achieving a single great deed—would be slain by a stranger from Sein!
"Unforgivable! Burn them all!"
He bellowed, the blaze of rage devouring all sense, then gripped his weapon and charged heedlessly forward, vowing to personally avenge his fallen companion!
Across the field, the other high-level spellcasters had completed their incantations!
Theresa finished first—her Color Spray was heightened to fifth level, and her mastery over light focused the dazzling hues squarely on the remaining four chimera! ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novęlfire.net
In an instant, bands of radiant color blinded each of the four chimera, whether they were leaping, vomiting, or rampaging—they all became sightless in a heartbeat!
Nidalee was the last to finish her incantation, but her spell’s area dwarfed all others. Thick brambles erupted across the center of the battlefield. Caught off guard, the half-orcs stumbled through—neither animal-hide boots nor calloused soles could shield them from the magical thorns. Blood and shrieks filled the air as their momentum faltered, the ground beneath them becoming a patchwork of agony and chaos!
"Beautifully done, Nidalee!"
As the half-orcs’ assault faltered, their howls echoing, Charles shouted his approval. "Anno, fall back—don’t let them surround us!"
But Anno was already standing between him and the enemy, braced to retreat together: "Understood!"
Realizing her role was to shield and provide an opening for her master’s ranged spells, Anno readied her shield with purpose.
Her left arm had recovered, paladin bodies long conditioned by sacred rites. Shield forward once again, she stood as the front line against the orcs: "You focus on spellcasting!"
Charles flicked his sword aside; the pact weapon dissolved into a thousand sparks. He raised his hand, forming gestures and reciting the incantation as the eldritch circles glinted again—
Four blasts of energy streaked out. The half-orcs on the brambles tried to dive, but his aim, while not perfect, was deadly—two targets struck. Eldritch Blast’s force blew through animal hide, pulverizing one’s shoulder and caving in another’s chest—one orc slumped, breath barely flickering, life almost gone.
By now, the first half-orc finally staggered past the thorns. Faces twisted in pain, their feet bleeding profusely; every step toward the fray was an ordeal.
Yet still they pressed on, axes raised high, hacking directly for Anno—
Anno took half a step back, tilting her shield. The heavy greataxe skidded aside, glancing away.
With the deflection, she spun, steel longsword flashing in a horizontal slash—
The keen blade tore through animal hide, cutting a bone-deep wound in the orc’s chest. Blood gushed freely!
As a lifelong-trained female knight, Anno’s expertise in shield combat was far beyond what Charles imagined. Against varying foes and weapons, she always had a defensive counter, remaining unscathed while striking back with lethal precision.
Against these brute-force half-orcs, she never tried to meet blows head-on, but rather turned their strength against them.
Yet such techniques excelled in one-on-one duels; on a battlefield outnumbered, her real challenge was many against few!
Other half-orcs charged past the brambles, some circling for the flanks. Anno took no pride—retreating nimbly, she called out commands: "Back up! Charles, keep casting—don’t let them encircle us!"
Just then, a flutter of fragrance—Hattie, in her deep blue mage’s robe, strode boldly past Anno, heading not for safety, but straight into the heart of the orcs’ formation!
Anno’s eyes widened. She’d thought Hattie was a mage, suited for shelter behind the front—never imagining such audacious courage to charge right in.
Then, from ahead, Hattie intoned an arcane phrase: "Arms of Hadar!"
Arms of Hadar—empowered to fourth level!
Dark, chilling tentacles burst forth from her aura—each five or six meters long, whipping across the battlefield and seizing charging half-orcs. Their blood ran cold, limbs frozen with dread.
Axes rose and fell in vain—their frozen muscles too weak, fending off not just magical force but invisible shields and layered wards.
There stood Hattie, one woman alone, a wall the half-orcs could not breach!
Anno gaped in shock. It turned out the shield-bearer Charles was truly a ranged specialist with self-protection, while the mage-robed, tentacle-summoning Hattie was the team’s true vanguard!
Having realized this, she adapted quickly—no longer retreating, but stepping forward, striking from within the shield of chilling tentacles, launching aggressive attacks on the stunned half-orcs!
The fight was brutal. This force of over twenty half-orcs and five chimera could not bring down a team of five—and was being worn down themselves. If word got out, it would be a lasting disgrace to the Chimera tribe.
Just then, at the rear, the team’s sole shaman finally took action.
He chanted long and low, the magic guiding the chimera—though blinded, agitated, and rampant, they followed his call, gathering by his side and bowing before his calming touch.
"Lesser Restoration!"
He completed the spell, his hands pressed to each chimera’s brow, dissolving their agony.
Eight spells in all nearly drained his mana, but at last, each chimera’s blindness and madness was reversed.
Seeing his four newly-calmed chimera, the shaman managed a relieved smile. He was about to command an assault—to turn the tide—when, from inside the cave, a satyr in yellow leaves came running in panic: "It’s a trap—retreat now!"
The shaman froze. More satyrs poured out after, utterly routed. Before they could utter a warning, a host of Dretch burst forth behind them, howling, stinking, charging into the chaos!
Instantly, the shaman’s face changed: "Children, destroy the demons!"
--------------------------------------
Enjoying the story? Get early access to 130+ Advanced Chapters!
👉 Support now: /TransFic
--------------------------------------