Serial
24: Wicked
December,
18th 32 S.D. 14:10 Lake Lada, Central Plains
As he had anticipated, the raging battle required little intervention on his part. Once Vitna had ordered the charge, he knew his subordinates could take care of any decisions on the field for themselves. It was not simply a matter of trust in his soldiers; it was also very much his faith in the infallible strategy he had executed. Vitna could little conceive of even the faintest chance of losing this battle. Every aspect of his assault had been flawless; every step had been perfect. Their forces were virtually unassailable, unstoppable. Striking fully at Sventa’s weakness, they were but guaranteed victory. And yet, something disturbed him as it caught his eye.
A bright light flashed somewhere up ahead. At first he thought nothing of it. Perhaps it had been a trick, a mistake of his own, a slip of sight. The Core Lead briefly demurred, turning away from where he had imagined it to have come from. With both hands clasped behind his back, he looked on at the sprawling fight. He could only see so much without his periscope, but he did see his warriors crushing and eliminating the enemy’s positions. To him, that was all that mattered. He wished he could have joined the fray, but his duty as an officer required him to completely guide the battle from start to finish no matter how smoothly things went.
Vitna was just about to comment to a nearby Range Lead how to-plan events were proceeding when another flash could be seen. There was no ambiguity about this sudden burst of light; it was nothing he had merely fancied in his head. Over the masses of so many soldiers, a great glow appeared, as if someone had lit a blue fire. It burned into existence for a few moments then subsided. What with all the foes and allies alike obscuring the view, Vitna could scarcely make out more than a vague impression as to what the light had been.
“What was that?” he asked, frowning.
“I do not know, Ver Vitna. I saw it as well. That is the third time I have noticed it myself,” the Range Lead next to him responded. The third time? Since when had this phenomenon been occurring? A quick wave of urgency spread across Vitna’s mind.
“What?” he asked, but as he spoke, the blue luminance grew markedly brighter. Suddenly, what appeared to be a bolt of lightning flew up into the air, streaking above the plains at a low angle. Two more of these streams blasted away at different directions. For a moment, Vitna was at a loss to explain this. He’d heard that lightning could strike during certain snowstorms, but he knew nothing about it being able to throw sparks in such a way as this. Furthermore, if it were lightning, they’d all be blinded by its brilliance and deafened by its thunder. Neither, however, had yet happened.
His brow furrowed as he wore a slight scowl upon his face. In the distance, Vitna could make out sharp, high cries, shouts that coincided with the appearance of the bolts. He could only assume that something on the battlefield was happening to the soldiers before him. He had ordered nothing but a simple charge upon the enemy, thus he knew this bizarre happening was most likely Sventa’s doing. Those he heard then were probably his own units.
“I need a status report!” Vitna barked, marching in front of his shields, trying to get a better view. Too many bodies on the playing field still made it impossible for him to clearly see.
“Someone, get me some intel. What did I just see?” Another flash of blue followed, raising with it more desperate exclamations from afar. A grunt soldier of a sort suddenly rushed up to Vitna. The Core Lead gritted his teeth as he turned to this timely messenger. The plan of attack was to have been secure in every regard, but even it could fail if some extremely unforeseen element were introduced in its course.
“Ver Vitna!” the soldier called.
“What is it?” Vitna asked as the soldier slowed before him and stood there panting. “Has the enemy unleashed some sort of new weapon? What exactly is happening out there?”
“It is...”
Yet before Vitna could receive this report, another bolt raced across the horizon. It flew a scant two meters overhead; its path ended shortly behind them. With full ferocity, it crackled loudly as its electrified beam branched off into several sizzling tendrils. Out of instinct, both Vitna and the soldier ducked. Vitna reached for his sword, though it wasn’t as if that gesture would have done anything. Still, as the blast disappeared, he looked above as he growled to himself. The pungent smell of ionized oxygen hung about. Vitna grabbed the soldier next to him as they both stood up.
“Report!” he commanded. “What is shrieking going on out there?”
“It is Sventa!” the soldier croaked. “They... they have a witch!”
Turning her seras into kinetic energy, Losha soon found out, was simply too draining on her strength. The amount of seras needed to effectively disable the enemy by sheer force remained a high price to pay. At the rate which she dispensed the enemy, she would exhaust herself and deplete her available seras before the battle had yet finished. With such a concern on her mind, Losha knew she’d have to find a more efficient way of attacking. Her inspiration arrived suddenly as she recalled the last training session she’d had with Denze and Mesel. Though the shock she’d given Denze had been playful, the series itself could prove harmful when applied vigorously. Compared to the bomb-like energy needed to blow her enemies away with kinetic forces, a few dozen volts was remarkably cheaper in terms of seras. Obviously, she had never used the series, or electricity for that matter, as a weapon, but no time remained for her to worry about such details.
As her squad dashed to the aid of another, Losha suddenly leaped high into the air, sprung by her speed-stepping series. As she’d aimed her trajectory, she crashed atop a Henron soldier; his body crumpled underfoot. Losha stumbled slightly from the impact but quickly regained herself. She looked up to see several Sventa staring at her feat in bewilderment. Losha ignored them altogether. Her senses warned her of an incoming threat from behind. Though she didn’t exactly have the focus to spare to accurately use her third-eye in the midst of battle, she could actively monitor seras frequencies close to her. She could only assume the ones quickly darting from the rear were not friendly. Whirling around in an instant, she saw that she’d predicted correctly.
Four Henron swords drew upon her; they raised their weapons as they speedily came up to her. Although she had not perfected or even practiced this series for war, she would have to make due with her own intuition. That meant she had to guess what level of seras would produce a sufficient amount of electricity to stop her foes. With a glow forming around her free hand, Losha serialized a quick burst of electricity. It followed the direction of her pointed index finger, lashing across the air at her opponents. All fou were instantly shocked as a white pulse surged over their bodies. Though this discharge had been short-lived, it remained powerful enough where bits of static visibly flickered along the enemy’s armor even after she’d stopped.
The Henron soldiers fell immediately, face-forward into the deep snow. Their bodies were limp, paralyzed, and helpless. Losha didn’t think she’d killed them; their seras frequencies still beat strongly. She had no intention of finishing them off. Her mission here had been to cease this bloodshed, not further cause it. Though she had maimed others before, they too should have survived her attacks. She couldn’t fulfill her purpose without acting forcefully, at any rate. It was by no means an ideal way to achieve peace; perhaps if she had been stronger...
Regardless, the rest of her squad soon arrived. They ran to the side of two wounded comrades as they formed a defensive position around the others. Losha pried loose the equipment from the soldiers she had just subdued and tossed them to the surviving sharpshoots. Yega, Bulmon, and Faima jogged over to Losha as she wretched away a shield from one of the bodies.
“Looks secure for now,” Yega said. Their eyes flitted back and forth, tracking movements all around them.
“Did you really...” Bulmon began, gently stepping over the Henron. Their armor slightly burned, melting the snow around them. The sick stench of searing flesh faintly wafted under their noses. “Did you really do this?”
“Honestly Bulmon?” Faima snapped. “You have eyes. You saw her. We all did. Shut the hell up so she can decide what to do next.”
Losha threw a sword over to another sharpshoot. An idea was taking hold in her head, one that she liked the more she contemplated things. She looked up at them.
“We go to the next squad in need of assistance. I will handle the enemy soldiers themselves. Half of us will form a defense around the troubled squad. The other half will disarm those I have defeated and distribute the weapons and shields to the sharpshoots.”
Yega raised an eyebrow. “What will that do? I mean, giving melee weapon to people who we explicitly trained in ranged combat? I am wondering why we did so ourselves.”
“As we are now, those guns are a hindrance to us. It was a folly to have ever relied so greatly upon them. And yet I am partly to blame for that...” Losha said as her eyes fell to the wayside.
“Dansha?” Yega asked.
“It is no matter,” she continued, turning around. “This battle has turned into one chiefly of blades, not bullets, and we are ill-equipped for the fight. Too few of us are not suited for close-combat; we need to rectify this imbalance. We will arm ourselves as we take from the enemy. We save as many of our own first, then gather together to counter Henron. Like before, I shall lead; follow closely.”
With another speed-step, Losha launched herself into the air, propelling her body quickly to the next scene of action. After only a short dash, she came upon another squad that was threatened by the likes of many Henron. As she came towards the enemy on their blind side, Losha realized that such a mass of foes - 40 in all - would need a lot more power than she’d previously used to be dealt with. Since her best estimates were rough, again she chose to be rather excessive in terms of her attack strength if only to be certain that she would do notable damage.
The blue light of her seras enveloped her hand as the series shot out another devastating bolt. This lightning struck the group all at once, arcing and spreading from soldier to soldier. The effects of her electricity dropped half of their lot to the ground in virtual silence. The rest released a short, stunned gasp as their bodies convulsed spontaneously before keeling over in a heap. However, since she had yet to learn all of the finer points of this series as a weapon, Losha did not have total control over it. The beam suddenly shot up, as if rearing to the sky. She ended the blast as soon as she realized that its course had gone astray. It would have been exceedingly unfortunate if she’d harmed one of her own; it was something she couldn’t afford.
Either way, she had stopped quite a number of enemies. The squad she had just rescued looked on in wonder, but as usual she paid them no attention. As she had done previously, Losha set to picking up the enemy’s tools. Some of the things, like the handle of a sword or two, had seemingly welded to the soldiers’ gauntlets. The same was true of some shields and breastplates. These things could not be recovered; perhaps she had overdone it? Her squad rushed in, straight away setting upon the plan she had formed.
As the remaining equipment was gathered for the handover, Losha caught a shift in seras frequencies ahead of them. She could barely distinguish enemy from friend, but the abrupt movement of many people on the field forced her to take note. Apparently, her series had drawn the attention of an impressive number of Henron. Though they had not seen the lightning’s toll or what it was capable of, they knew something was amiss and had to be eradicated. Some 130-odd Henron under the command of several coordinating Field Leads instigated a concentrated charge upon her position.
Now the situation grew dicey. She’d yet to even remotely handle that many soldiers alone, and they were massively outnumbered as well. Nonetheless, Losha stood her ground. Even at that distance, she could still accurately hurl her lightning. It didn’t have to hit a specific target; striking one would strike another as the soldiers basically conducted one another.
As her series was cast, a beastly whip of electricity snaked straight at the center of the would-be assault. Dozens of Henron collapsed while some stiffened and spasmed erratically before crashing unconsciously to the ground. Again, her attack gradually began to veer upwards, as if she could not withstand its kickback. Losha canceled the series before she totally lost all aim. Her strategy was simply to restart the series and fire another round whenever this happened. She noticed, however, that some of the soldiers in front of her gave pause as they halted on the spot. They looked warily on at their fallen units then at the girl ahead.
“What the...? What was that?!”
“Did you just see that?”
“Shrieks, Vahnel is down!”
Though this display had brought many of their lot to a complete, uneasy stop, a brash handful of others continued on with the blitz.
“Wait!” a Field Lead bellowed. “Get back here! Fall back!”
Yet they were too intoxicated by the spirit of battle. The sound words of their superior, if heard at all, were unheeded. They ran forward, fueled by their own lust for war.
“It is just one girl!”
“Get her!”
“Advance, brothers!”
Losha narrowed her eyes, huffing dismissively. One after another, she zapped the Henron with pinpoint precision. Those who had recklessly attempted to storm her were each covered in an inescapable web of jolting energy. It wrapped around them, seizing their limbs violently before cutting their legs out from underneath them. Some of the 90-plus remaining soldiers simply glanced at one another as their stances shifted defensively, their shields raised. At first, only a few took minor backsteps, but quickly others more bold began to trot in reverse. Losha, however, would not let them so easily escape as she fired one last bolt across their ranks; more of them yet fell. Even from here, she could see their eyes widening, their mouths working in disbelief.
“Wha-what is she?”
“Not human... Not human!”
“Run. Everybody run, now!”
In a cry, they turned and fled, sprinting wildly away. Losha had no will to give chase. Perhaps if all the enemy reacted as such, this battle would end quickly with fewer casualties. As she stood there though, another sudden call burst out behind her. Rather than the fearful howls of the enemy, it was the cheer of other Sventa around her. They raised their weapons - swords and guns alike - into the air, pumping and shaking them vigorously. She turned around, looking at her allies as they approached her en masse. A Range Lead came running up to her first, the same Range Lead that she’d initially met upon arriving at Lake Lada. She remembered he was supposed to be her assigned Range Lead and Bulmon’s direct commanding officer. He was cut and bloodied but made no show of weakness. Though Losha did not recall his name, evidently he had not forgotten hers, at least not the alias she went under. She was the only one wearing a Wolf of War though.
“Dansha Sofos,” he said giving her a salute despite their differences in rank; she neglected to return the gesture, not being familiar with military customs at all, yet he did not seem bothered. “I know not what powers you possess or where they come from, but we are in dire need of them. We have to reform a large, cohesive unit to operate effectively against Henron, but at the moment we are scattered and struggling. We need your aid to hold the enemy back.”
“That is what I have come here to do. You and your soldiers would do well to take and use what we have stripped here from the fallen Henron for yourselves. As you can see, most of the fighting has been hand-to-hand, well, except in my case.”
The Range Lead nodded in agreement. “Sa, excellent thinking. Henron keeps pouring in from our left. As an immediate objective, we need to stop them.”
“I shall handle that then,” Losha said. The Range Lead held up his hand, but she dashed away, quickly shuttled off by speed-steps.
“What about a plan?” he called out, but Losha had already chosen one in her mind. As she clipped along the plains, she saw that another surge of Henron were about to siege the Sventa flank. Unlike the situation across other positions, her comrades here had managed to fend off the enemy successfully, and their numbers remained large. However, Henorn’s forces still overshadowed them, and their foes were free from injury in contrast to many Sventa. Though they had survived the first wave, Losha doubted they could withstand the next. She would, however, see that they lived through this trial.
With her movements hastened faster than humanly possible, she zipped across the ground in an instant, arriving halfway between Henron and Sventa. Swiftly sheathing her sword, Losha knelt down. Her hands plunged into the heavy snow palms-first. The theory was set in her head, though she had never even attempted a series of this scale or type before. That fact hadn’t stopped her from performing other series she was equally unacquainted with. She reminded herself that she had become a master for a reason, so despite her inexperience on the matter, she dove in confidently. The premise was that if she could heat something up with serialization, she could also freeze it. Rather than using seras to excite the molecules of a substance, she would still them altogether.
A great blue glow flared beneath her in a sweeping circle so bright it was visible through all the snow. Her goal was to use the most abundant material available: water. It filled the air and covered the land; it was ripe for manipulation. Losha executed two series. The first molded the snow to her desires. Light suddenly shot across the fields from her illuminated circle, cutting a distinct horizontal line for meters on end to either side. From this blue strip, the snow began to mold itself sharply, rising from the earth like so many treacherous spikes. She had simply used kinetic energy to rapidly give them form. They angled savagely, chaotically at the enemy with an average length of about a meter. Though she had created them all simultaneously, it had been no small task to do so. Next, she subtracted as much heat as she could from her hazardous trap. As if a number of objects had all at once snapped, a massive, loud crackling echoed over the entire warzone. Immediately, the spikes were converted into devilishly razor-like icicles that jutted straight out of the ground itself.
The incoming Henron slowed down as they cautiously approached the frozen barrier. An order was issued to destroy the obstruction, but even their weapons could little chip or dent the ice. Losha stood up bit by bit. She had used a great deal of seras, but it was nothing she wouldn’t regain soon. With that, at least one front could now be defended. Two other sides, however, still sat vulnerable. Emboldened by her success here though, she had another idea.
“A witch?” Vitna asked, pushing the soldier aside. “Do not be ridiculous. There is a rational explanation. The enemy must have developed yet another new weapon. Yet Henron shall prevail!”
Another desperate, collective shout arose. Vitna managed to retrieve his periscope, yet he would not need it for long. He glanced right then left but saw nothing until he settled on his soldiers on the central front, those who had clashed with Sventa head-on. Without warning, the ground beneath them trembled. At the moment, Vitna couldn’t understand why they were backing away hastily and raising fits of terror as they did so. However, he knew the reason soon enough. An impenetrable wall of ice some 200 meters wide and 6 meters tall literally rose from the land they stood on.
“What... is that?” Vitna asked aloud as he lowered his periscope and dropped it. “What has Sventa shrieking done now?!” he spat. “Tha-that is just not possible!”
Nevertheless it was. Only a minute thereafter, Sventa sharpshoots popped over the top of this newfound fort, their barrels aimed sharply downward. Then a single Sventa appeared at the middle, standing there with one foot on the edge. It was a person draped in an elaborate wolf pelt. This individual drew their sword and raised it skyward. The blade then exploded into electricity that brightly ran all the way up and down its length constantly. Lowering the sword by degrees, the mysterious warrior pointed it directly at Henron as a boisterous rally roared behind this figure. Thus was how the world came to know the mighty power that was the art of serialization.
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Subscribe
Flag Writing