General Herbison puts his hat back on: There we go. Okay so we left you in the middle of a battle. Yeah it was too long for one chapter and let's be honest it's more exciting that way.
Fay: You humans talk too much.
General: And you left me to continue hanging from that banister.
Fay: Are you still upset over that, human?
General: I am miffed about it, yes. Anyway disclaimer time, every aspect, except the pieces in bold, belong to Sunjinjo on deviantart who is the true Minion Mistress. Check out her fantastic art pieces. Now then, let battle resume!
Fay: I will kill you one day when you are no longer needed.
General: Just try it you fairy scum. On with the story.
Battle of the Northern Fields Part 2
The Netherworld's army was moving forward at a faster pace with these unexpected new allies in the air. The front lines approached a new hill, good and high, and very suitable for a third catapult.
It was a pity the hill was already occupied – by a huge ballista.
This was a job for a marksman. At least, that was Minc's humble opinion.
The brown with the elven bow hung a small distance away, halfway up the second catapult. He ignored the whizz of the sling and the jolting of the siege weapon every time a boulder was fired – his concentration had grown famous among the quickly distracted brown clan by now. He kept his eyes and his arrows sharply on the ballista, from his questionable vantage point.
He fired. One of the men on the ballista, one helping to aim, fell down gurgling inaudibly. The ballista itself swung to the side and the meter-long arrow now being fired squarely missed its target. A few Ruborians looked back and saluted gratefully. Minc didn't react, but strung a new arrow and shot another crew member.
The Minion grinned and jumped off the catapult. A whistling boulder whirred over his head to the city walls as he ran to the ballista as a black and brown flash, stringing and firing three arrows in rapid succession. One of them missed its target and buried itself in the wood of the ballista, but the other two struck the remaining men on the siege weapon – one in the shoulder, so he grabbed at his wound screaming, the other in an eye. That soldier was dead immediately.
Two more men on the ballista, one of them injured. Piece of cake.
Then, as Minc was still sprinting to the hill, a huge shape tumbled from the sky and turned a whole swathe of the field ahead into a sea of green gas. The brown Minion slowed down – he didn't like the effects that much. Before he'd completely stopped, however, a fireball sailed down – a glance upwards revealed a glimpse of Fever through the billowing clouds of smoke – and the gas caught fire.
Minc shielded his eyes. The fire was almost unbelievably ferocious, bright and all-consuming hot. The battlefield before him turned into a chaos of screams and fleeing pinpricks of light that'd once been the warriors. But it also burned itself out faster than a normal fire, and it didn't take long before there was nothing left but flying sparks and hot ash.
He stared up for a moment, but the two flyers were gone. He ran on over the cleared path, quickly followed by some other Minions. Kniff was among them, the white of his silken hat flecked with red.
The two remaining soldiers on the ballista were quickly overpowered, the bodies were thrown downhill, and Minc and the others took their positions. A few Nordbergians combined their strengths to push the war machine a bit downhill and secure it against a protruding rock, so they could fire at will, but a catapult could be brought up on the hilltop as well.
Minc cast a glance at the meter-long, deadly arrows he now had at his disposal, and grinned darkly.
(BATTLEFIELD)
Sayron had no idea what had happened in the skies above his war, but he didn't complain. He would like some answers, however.
He'd never understood much of the three Minions with the black-lined eyes. He'd barely noticed their strange behaviour until Jinx had pointed it out, in fact, but she hadn't had an explanation either, and he'd dismissed the matter for the time being.
But he couldn't ignore it any longer now. He'd asked Gnarl what he knew, but the advisor hadn't been able to give a coherent answer.
"Don't you worry, Lord Sayron."
The Overlord froze. An icy voice had hissed through his head, slipping between his own thoughts like meltwater.
High above the battle, needle-sharp teeth were bared in a grin.
"Don't you worry, Lord Sayron," Goudvis spoke, devilish glee in his voice. "Everything will become clear soon." He felt the Overlord's confusion, and he almost rubbed his hands together with satisfaction. Spreading confusion was more of a job for his green-skinned brother, really, but he could have a lot of fun with it as well.
The thing he had at least as much fun with was the confusion of the young horde leader. She'd gotten on the right track – she'd come very close indeed. She'd even gotten a Minion to share the dark vision with her. Beating his vapour-emitting, icy blue wings Goudvis shook his head at that once more. Loyalty. It was a new approach, but it seemed to be working.
Three heads, three Overlords, three Tower Hearts, three strange Minions with black-lined eyes.
She'd gotten very close, but they would both come even closer… very soon.
With a grin the blue flyer dived down. A white, freezing fire gleamed in his hands, and a moment later two enormous chunks of ice sailed down, to shatter on the battlefield in a deadly shower of shards and spears of ice. Goudvis flew back up spinning as the screams reached his ears. Then he snapped his fingers, and the screaming stopped.
You stand still, he commanded. Brothers!
As if they were actually listening, Fever and Stabbit sailed down from the smoke, fire and poison in their elongated maws. Time and time again they pulled swathes of destruction and madness through the Imperial army, and the men did nothing to prevent it – the ballistae didn't fire, the men didn't flee. No one in Goudvis' range of domination could lift a finger against the icy flyer's will.
On the city wall the men started to panic slightly.
Still new cohorts were streaming from the city to the northern fields, let down by ropes and ladders. The Netherworld's legions hadn't even come close to the walls yet. But no one had expected the three flying demons, and the damage they were dealing was almost impossible to compensate any longer. Fabius Amicus was still alive, but now he almost wished he wasn't – the conflagrations the red demon left behind, every time he swooped down and traced low arches above the armies, were almost too much for him.
He looked up to the nearest catapult. "Centurion! What do we do?!"
On the central platform of the huge siege weapon the men in the red cloak growled.
"Replace those explosives," he snarled at his crew. "The fire only gives that red one new strength. Get normal boulders!"
"Yes, sir," one of them saluted, and a whole bunch of them hurried off. Not much later the required munition was hoisted up along the wall and loaded into the catapults – not all of them, as there was still hope the explosives could bring down the green and blue flyers.
The red flyer soared to the wall, closer and closer until his wings almost stroked along the white marble. Flames leaked between his teeth as he grinned –
"Fire," the centurion commanded.
Half a dozen crushing boulders screamed through the air, all aimed for the fire-breathing monster.
Far away beyond the hills the Tower Heart briefly flickered.
The catapult boulders hit one by one, each with crushing force. Fever staggered in the air as his wings were struck and the strong bones supporting the membrane creaked beneath the strain. Then something snapped, again and again. Flames escaped his maw as his ribs were struck.
Then a rock crashed into his head and the fire in his eyes faded, and the red flyer fell down to the battlefield tumbling and spinning, to smack down before the city gates with a blow flinging away dust and soldiers to all sides.
"No!"
On higher ground, busy defending the ballista Minc and the others had hijacked with sword and magic, Jinx clasped her free hand to her mouth. To see Fever tumble from the skies was a horrible sight, even from this distance.
For a moment she'd been certain of the connection between Kniff's vision of a dark, three-headed god and the three Minions. She'd even called them the Unholy Minions for herself. But now…
No one could survive such a bombardment. No winged creature.
Zephyros would have been long dead, with broken bones protruding through his skin on all sides.
The horde leader abruptly cowered down as another flying form barely grazed the hill ridge, hissing and spitting with fury. She could just make out a smaller figure on his back, with a black bandana.
The enormous creature lay squarely between the soldiers with spread, clearly broken wings.
A few hundred feet further the city wall rose up.
The Empire's men nervously crowded around the huge, muscular body. Some of them were brave enough to prod it with a long sword or a spear. Glowing, steaming blood flowed from every wound, and the air above the body trembled with heat.
The creature was still breathing, but barely noticeable.
Then a second winged demon sailed towards the city wall. This one left behind a trail of green, poisonous clouds, and the men around Fever's body covered their noses and mouths. The demon turned around hissing, the look in his eyes just as enraged as in those of his rider – a smaller, brown demon. For a moment he seemed to be about to fall out to the ground, maybe even to lift the fiery flyer, but then he turned back to the city wall. It seemed his rider had persuaded him, steering by pulling on his frayed ears.
A command resounded from the wall. "Catapults!"
Briefly there was the sound of slings being pulled back. Then the centurion's voice rang out once more. "Sentinels!"
All Sentinels on the wall pulled their red lights off the battlefield and outstretched their left hands to Stabbit.
The green flyer hissed, not with rage this time, but in pain. Scabies dived away behind the elongated head and the muscular neck, but Stabbit couldn't go anywhere. For a moment he shone with his own green light, and for a moment it seemed to win against the red Sentinel lights, but then his skin started to scorch and shrivel away. The mighty green wings missed a beat, and Stabbit and Scabies dropped in the air – they lost so much height Stabbit's foot claws almost touched the heads of the soldiers on the field.
"Fire!"
"Get catapults!" Scabies yelled in Stabbit's ear, but the green flyer writhed and flapped uncontrolled in the red light. He abruptly shot up, like a cork from a bottle, out of reach of the Sentinels. The exploding catapult boulders missed him utterly and came down further away, in the Netherworld's army. A few of them struck one of Sayron's catapults, erected with such pain and effort. The wooden construction burst apart in a blaze of flaming beams and chunks of debris. Another boulder barely missed Goudvis – the blue flyer could almost touch the projectile and would surely have been hit it he hadn't been paying attention to the wall.
Briefly something else than satisfaction appeared in Goudvis' eyes. This wasn't going according to plan at all.
(BATTLEFIELD)
Those catapults were becoming a big problem.
Jinx realized this all too well, still busy on the hill bearing the third catapult and Minc's ballista. She'd followed Stabbit's struggle with wide eyes, and yelled and sighed with the Minions as he was beaten back by the Sentinels. Now the horde leader was torn apart by an inner conflict.
The catapults couldn't be brought down from the battlefield. The Netherworld's army couldn't come close enough to the city wall to erect their own catapult, not without being completely wiped out, and even if they could get a catapult out there it would be blown apart in seconds – being close enough to the wall to damage the Imperial catapults also meant coming within shooting range yourself. A sitting duck.
The flyers couldn't do anything, that was clear. The Sentinels protected the siege weapons well. The Unholy Minions' magic wasn't strong enough to withstand their light.
What was needed here was something that didn't fight from ground level, and wasn't magical. Otherwise they'd never take the city walls.
Jinx exchanged a brief glance with Kniff, still busy aiming Minc's ballista and loading in new arrows. His yellow eyes flashed beneath his blood-stained hat, and his mouth twisted in a grimace. He was thinking the same thing.
She tightly closed her eyes. Then she opened them again, turned and sprinted back through the Netherworld's army, to the north, to the Tower Gate.
On and around the ballista a few Minions turned with her. "Jinx! Where you going?!"
"Keep that ballista going! I'll come back!" Jinx shouted. "I'll come back," she repeated to herself, in a fierce growl.
(OVER TO SAYRON)
"Sire?"
Sayron beat back a spherical bomb with the back of his hand, an explosive thrown by a soldier in a blue tunic. The projectile exploded amidst the enemy troops, and he permitted himself a brief grin, despite the growing trouble on his side. "Gnarl?"
The advisor coughed and raised his voice to overrule the noise around the Overlord. "Sire, the Purple Scourge has left the battlefield."
"How do you know..." Sayron fell silent for a moment. "Has she been in the Netherworld?!"
"Yes, my Lord. I'm afraid I wasn't able to stop her." Gnarl's voice sounded flat, and the Overlord realized the advisor was still quite shocked – he could imagine how Jinx had flashed through the throne room, too quick for the old Minion to so much as lift a finger.
"Where is she now?" he asked feverishly, as bewilderment and frustration fought for priority. He couldn't use this – the situation was bad enough with the horde leader with them.
"She immediately flashed away for Everlight, Lord." Gnarl sounded a bit lost.
Everlight…
As the Overlord swung around his mace, trying almost desperately to protect himself, Ruau and the men around him against the arrows and explosions the Empire flung at them, Jinx's little expeditions shot through his mind. Jinx' unexplained trips to the tropical island, her nervous reactions whenever he asked about them…
He cursed himself. He'd been blind. His horde leader had been hiding something from him… somewhere on Everlight.
Sayron abruptly looked up at the darkened sky as a whistling sound caught his attention. A flaming catapult boulder flew straight at him…
"Ruau!" he shouted, and his mount immediately put himself in motion, almost diving away, away from the spot where the projectile would land…
Behind him everything bloomed with heat and light. He didn't look back, not even when his silken sash partly scorched away.
He let Ruau ram a way through the battle, without much distinction between friend and foe. Broken bodies of the fallen cracked beneath the hornbeast's hooves, and as he looked down he realized an incredible amount of Minions, Nordbergians and Ruborians lay dead in the dust. With some Minions, he noticed, limbs had been cut off, up to both arms and legs, and he realized the soldiers had inflicted those mutilations before their deaths – those Minions were no longer useful, he couldn't summon them back from the Well.
How had they known that? Now the Empire had figured this out, things were looking grim for them.
A little distance away he could hear Kivner screaming his commands, however. They still had leadership, apart from himself. He hoped Fay was alright, but he doubted the Empire could handle her.
Ahead of him the yeti flung his long arms around, crushing and smacking away soldiers, Eradicators and even a Gargantuan to the left and right. A savage roar streamed from his sharp-fanged mouth. Then a massive, heavy catapult boulder flung him away in turn. The rock's impact actually had the enormous yeti flying upwards, and long before the dust settled the Nordbergian beast smacked down before Sayron, his arms outstretched towards Ruau's hooves. The one eye looked up at the Overlord hazily, and the animal groaned.
Blues came running to heal the many wounds and probably broken ribs of the beast, but it clearly demanded much of the vulnerable Minions to keep standing amidst the chaos. The Empire started to force themselves into the Netherworld's army, instead of the other way around.
This wasn't good at all.
And it all hinged on those catapults on the city wall. If only they could bring those down they could march forward, climb the wall and kill the Sentinels, the explosions would stop and all those Minions would stay alive… then the three flyers would have a free hand again.
Sayron threw himself into battle again and wildly smacked around, but the muscles in his arms screamed with protest beneath his weapon's enormous weight. He saw Fay, far ahead, still viciously falling out with thorny vines and other green magic. Her black dress was full of tears and bright red blood dripped down over her pale face from a head wound. Her red hair had come loose and whirled wildly around her head. Every now and then she cast seeds around, growing into thorny bushes or stinging nettles between the soldiers, but those often shrivelled in the heat of a nearby explosion.
If only they could bring down the catapults…
Then Gnarl's voice resounded again.
"What?!"
The advisor's creaky old voice betrayed actual fear, and that was the only reason Sayron heard it through his rage. Gnarl was never afraid. That was impossible.
"Get that creature away! Jinx…!"
"Arcadiopolis!"
One word, with Jinx' clear voice.
Sayron spun around, to stare up at the hilltops behind which the Tower Gate lay. A blue flash ascended from behind the ridge.
And then something else followed, almost faster than his eyes could follow, shooting straight up at the clouded sky with a high-pitched screech.
(OVER TO JINX)
Finally.
Finally dark wings cut through the air above Arcadiopolis.
She'd dreamt of it, but she'd never thought it'd become reality one day. That she'd ever see the armies of the Empire and the Netherworld far below her, small as toys. Low, dark clouds flashed between her and the armies like veils as she shot over the battlefield, swift and fleet as if she was still dreaming.
Zephyros carried her over the fields with fantastic speed, regularly beating his wings and emitting high cries of excitement.
Jinx feverishly grabbed on to his mane, as her heart almost burst from her chest with joy, fear and guilt. "It's the only way!" she shouted down against the wind, as if someone could hear her. "I didn't want to take him here! I couldn't –"
Then an ominous whistling sound cut her off, and she looked ahead, squinting her eyes against the wind's furious power.
They'd started firing at her.
"Not my bat," she hissed. She outstretched a hand, leaning on Zephyros' head with the other for some support. The purple comet ignited between her fingers, licking the air as if it couldn't wait to be unleashed.
Then the purple fire flashed ahead and hit the catapult boulder. A moment later the giant bat was flying through a cloud of dust and rock chippings. This repeated itself time and time again, every projectile crumbling or exploding halfway through their flight. The manoeuvres she'd taught Zephyros came in handy as well – their flight across the fields turned into a whirl of dives, banks and rolls to avoid the arrows and boulders now flying towards them.
Jinx held on tightly to the gear, a grim smile plastered across her face. They could do this. This was what they'd trained for all this time.
Jinx realized Zephyros was actually larger than the Unholy Minions. Goudvis was flying towards them from the west, as white mist whirled off his wings. His still large, round eyes stared at her, glistening with a strange kind of approval.
A non-magical flyer, his voice hissed inside her head. Clever girl. Even from this distance Jinx could see him grinning.
She saluted uncertainly, then grabbed the crossbow, in the holder at the right side of the saddle. She clenched her teeth, ensured herself a brief respite with a crackling blow of magic, and loaded in the arrows.
Then they reached the city wall, and Zephyros swept forward his foot claws – the claws that could cut through leather and metal, the claws that could gut a grown man like a fish.
This impact was even more violent than on wolfback. The giant bat came down on the first catapult like an avalanche, flinging away the soldiers with teeth and claws. The blows of his wings dragged the first Sentinels off the wall, even before they could aim their lights. Jinx dived away behind her mount's head and large ears as the others did seize their chances – with this many Sentinels at once, her magic would probably be dragged out of her altogether.
She leant back and fired bolt after bolt down along the wall with her crossbow, to the spot where Fever still lay unconscious. Soldiers had climbed on top of him, stabbing his chest to shrink down his chances of coming back around. The horde leader missed multiple times because of the violent movements of her mount, but she did manage to create panic around the red flyer. Hopefully she'd granted Fever some rest – she fiercely hoped he had the same healing talent as Stabbit.
Then she was forced to focus on the wall. The catapults further away turned to aim for Zephyros, and she knew she couldn't afford a single hit.
There were too many for her to beat back, she realized. "Zeph, fly!"
One fling of his maw later, sending two soldiers tumbling down to the battlefield, the bat spread his wings and dived off the wall. What followed demanded the utmost of their flying skills. Jinx tried her best to send him between the catapults and ballistae on the wall in a slalom, so he could beat down the soldiers and Sentinels standing between them. At the same time she tried to shoot the men on the catapults herself.
Things didn't entirely work out the way she wanted, but all in all they greatly countered the firing of the siege weapons, and that was enough for Jinx – she'd clenched her teeth with strain and concentration, but as she went along a wild grin also formed on her face.
She was forced to take to the crossbow entirely, instead of magic, as Zephyros' lurching course plunged them into the anti-magic shield above the city every few seconds. Every time Jinx felt her magic fade away, and it wasn't a pleasant sensation at all. She realized, again, they really had to dispatch the shield before they could take the city. She didn't doubt the fact they'd need the Minions' magical qualities – not to mention Sayron and herself, and she also wondered if Omari's sand worm would listen to him without the Ruborian's magic.
She had noticed the mage hadn't dared sending his monster beneath the wall, probably for that reason. The Unholy Minions didn't have any influence with the shield intact, either.
The horde leader leant into each of Zephyros' turns, gradually running out of arrows and adding purple fireballs whenever the shield allowed her to. Here and there the bat soared over the catapults with his claws held high, dragging out the men on them, clawing and biting down wherever he could. Every now and then his gaze flashed back to his rider, as if to ensure himself she hadn't been hit by the Sentinels' lights, arrows or projectiles.
Sometimes she was, but she could shake off the lights of individual Sentinels, and she'd broken off arrows to leave them inside the wound until she could heal it more often than she cared to remember.
Then, sooner than expected, they reached the end of the line of catapults and ballistae. Zephyros turned around flapping, and Jinx looked out over the havoc they'd wreaked.
Not a single catapult had a full crew left. Some of them could still fire, but Stabbit and Goudvis were approaching fast as well, and now not half as many explosions rained down in Sayron's armies their front line was advancing quite a bit faster too. Jinx shot her last crossbow bolts at the Sentinels still standing as Zephyros carried her across the wall in a much calmer pace. Then the bat landed, squarely on the city wall, with a view across the entire battlefield. He fell out to a fleeing soldier one more time, and blood dripped over his snout as Jinx put away her crossbow and straightened out.
A dull, bellowing sound reached her ears as Zephyros folded his rushing wings. A familiar tone…
Her name.
Jinx gasped for breath and clasped a blood-flecked hand to her mouth as she realized it. The troops of the Netherworld were chanting her name.
"Jinx…! Jinx…! Jinx…!"
For a moment the battlefield spun around her and she tightly shut her eyes. She could see the look in Sayron's eyes already. This time she'd really gone too far.
But she hadn't had a choice. She took a deep breath as she realized she'd singlehandedly turned the tide of battle.
For Nordberg, Ruboria and Everlight. For blood and death. For magic!
"No," she spoke quietly to herself. She pulled her sword from its sheath and raised the weapon up high. "For the Netherworld!" she cried out over the battlefield. Beneath her Zephyros reared up and screeched with her.
When he eventually shut his maw Jinx briefly laid a hand on his rough head. "One more thing left," she grinned. "Brace yourself!"
They dived off the wall and soared down to where Fever lay, now amidst panicked soldiers who'd long since broken formation. The bat outstretched his claws to the red flyer and dragged him away from the ground, to ascend again with furiously pounding wings. Fever was heavy, and his drooping wings caught so much air Zephyros was considerably slowed, but that didn't matter any longer. Jinx managed to get her mount back behind the lines and lowered Fever in a group of blues. The Minions immediately swarmed around the flyer, the healing magic sizzling at their fingertips.
She looked down upon one of them with a smile, as fires flared behind her and battle cries resounded across the fields. "I promised you something, Drip."
The blue Minion pulled back his hands from Fever's arm. His large round eyes widened further as he looked at her. "If you're in the position to take me with you…"
"Today," Jinx chuckled. She reached forward and pulled a red-feathered arrow from the edge of Zephyros' wing. More of those had struck the bat on the way. "I'm going to need a healer if I want to survive above this battlefield."
"My pleasure," the blue Minion answered with a grin. He reached up and seized her outstretched hand, to be dragged behind her in the saddle. Then they shot up again, to join the Unholy Minions and decide the battle.
(NETHERWORLD/THRONE ROOM)
"Jinx, the Mistress of the sky
Spears will break and shields be shaken
On Everlight's wings she'll surely fly
To victory, your lands be taken!"
At the mist pool Gnarl abruptly turned around. Behind him danced a brown Minion with a fool's hat, plucking his harp every now and then.
Quaver spun on his heel and then looked back into the mist pool with one yellow and one glass eye. "Did you see this one coming, Gnarl? Haha!"
"Shut it, Quaver," the advisor hissed.
(SURFACE/BATTLEFIELD)
As Fever's inner fire flared up once again and he launched himself into the sky, Sayron could barely keep himself standing in battle any longer. He was too busy staring at the silhouette of the enormous bat as it turned and tumbled high above him, and time and time again purple magic rained down from its back. The Overlord noticed his own mount became nervous with that giant shadow, and he felt a mixture of anger and hurt well up – he couldn't believe the way Jinx had betrayed his trust.
She'd lied to him since their journey across Everlight. To him, her superior... her Master. Being a part of the horde meant obedience...
But Sayron realized he'd have far more trouble without her, and he wasn't ungrateful now he could send Ruau thundering through the scattered legions of the Empire without much ado. Behind him two more catapults were brought up and made ready, and as Fever swept through the air and touched the Netherworldly boulders, flaming explosions mushroomed up where he liked them best... just in front of the city walls.
Everywhere the Imperial armies broke formation. Their morale had been crushed. They hadn't succeeded in downing the winged Minions, and instead, an extra pair of wings had joined them. That was too much for them.
A catapult was brought up ahead of him, close enough to the city walls to blast a hole in them the Empire wouldn't be able to mend anytime soon...
He spurred on Ruau.
As he came close enough the Minions on the catapult turned to him. In the background Jinx sailed through the air, patrolling the walls so no new Sentinels or other reinforcements could get a foothold.
Yellow eyes flashed beneath varying helmets, hats and a hollowed pumpkin. "Master?"
Sayron grinned. "Go ahead."
The sling was pulled back, with an ominous creak. Up in the air Fever was circling like a vulture, more than ready to add his fire to the projectiles.
Sayron raised his head. "Gnarl, bring the Tower Heart to me."
"Certainly, Sire."
As flaming projectiles rained down upon the city wall and huge dark cracks flew up in the pristine marble, a flaming red pearl moved through the armies of the Netherworld. On the Imperial half of the battlefield fights were still going on, between humans and Minions, Gargantuans and Eradicators, but those fights were about to come to an end.
The Tower Heart had glowed brighter and brighter during the battle. As Fever had crashed down it'd faded for a while, to the great panic of the Minions tending to it, but now everything seemed to be returned to normal. Now it glowed as bright as the red flyer's eyes.
The ancient relic reached Sayron, proudly upright on his mount next to the catapult closest to the city walls. The Overlord cast a glance down and grinned, his eyes fierce. Nothing could stand up to him now. At this moment he was invincible. And he was about to grow more powerful still, however briefly.
He knew exactly what he had to do.
The Overlord dismounted, knelt down at the Heart, outstretched his armoured hands and pierced his sharp metal fingertips through the outside of the pearl. His hands slid through the radiant orb as if it was made of mist, and for a single moment Sayron's entire body glowed with blinding light. The Minions around him shielded their eyes, and high up in the air Jinx inhaled sharply – it was as if a sun shone up at her from the battlefield.
Then the Overlord pulled back his hands, but they were clenched into fists now. He was holding something, something glowing just as bright as he had a moment ago. It was pure lightning – his own magic, but unimaginably magnified.
As he pulled the magic out, the Tower Heart lost a considerable portion of its glow. This was the reason Sayron hadn't done this at the start of the siege – the Heart could no longer lend its powers to the Tower Gates now. He wouldn't be able to call up any catapults soon. And the power he was about to unleash, too, was a one-time only use.
But unleash it, he would.
Sayron stood up, rolled his shoulders, and then flung the lightning bolt up into the sky.
Briefly the dark clouds lit up as the bolt danced between them, the roaring thunder in pursuit...
Then lightning struck the city.
It was an enormous pillar of light crashing down on Arcadiopolis from the skies, hellishly illuminating the wide surroundings. In some places in the city fires broke out, and the people that hadn't noticed much of his presence up to this point now ran out of their homes, screaming in panic. New alarm bells rang out, and on the battlefield the Overlord grinned a dark grin... but the best was still to come.
All this time his catapults had continued firing, and now the thick, strong city wall finally started to crumble down. Together with that weakening barrier the shield above the city flickered. The blue haze grew fainter, faltered... and then fell away in indistinct bolts and flashes of anti-magic, shooting away across the fields. For just one moment a wave of anti-magic rolled over the battlefield, and everywhere green Minions became visible and the healing magic of the blues faltered. For one moment the reds couldn't throw fireballs any longer, for one moment Fay lost her grip on her verdant creations.
Then it was over, and Arcadiopolis lay completely bare beneath the naked sky.
The city wall broke open in three places. A cloud of dust rose up, and the last soldiers still resisting made a run for it. One of the last Gargantuans was brought down roaring beneath the claws of five greens and their spiders.
Sayron kept standing there, slowly opening and closing his crackling hand. He didn't react as a rushing sound reached him, from a small distance behind his back. He only looked up as Ruau started snorting and pawing at the ground nervously.
"I hope you've properly tamed that beast." His deep voice made the small figure behind him freeze briefly.
"Just as well as you your mount, Lord," Jinx answered, a quiver in her voice. She'd dismounted and now carefully led Zephyros next to her, as far away from Sayron and Ruau as she could. "Lord, I'm sorry. I had no choice."
Sayron looked down on her and nodded briefly. "I could see that." He paused. "I thought I'd been clear. You've insulted my trust, Jinx. From an Overlord to a horde leader, I expected absolute obedience from you."
In a rush of recklessness Jinx raised her head. "I never was as obedient as a Minion, Lord. Didn't you once say I wasn't comparable to a normal horde member?" She clenched her fists for a moment. "I did it for you. For the war." Next to her Zephyros lowered his head and crawed questioningly. On his back Drip didn't dare move a muscle.
Eventually, after a silence seemingly lasting forever, as the troops of the Netherworld started moving towards the city walls around them, Sayron spoke. "As long as you don't get any funny ideas, I give you permission to use that beast in battle. We'll discuss this further afterwards." His eyes flashed as Jinx opened her mouth. "Not a wingbeat without permission, Jinx."
"Certainly not, Lord." The horde leader furiously tried to hide her relief and joy.
Sayron narrowed his eyes. "And now, to the sky with you. We have a city to conquer!"
Jinx immediately saluted and jumped back into the saddle via Zephyros' wing. Not a moment later the bat rose up again, high above the Overlord and the remains of the battlefield. "Thank you, Lord!" She raised a tightly clenched fist and cheered wildly. "Thank you!"
Sayron could hear Gnarl coughing briefly next to his ear. "Sire, this is… well…"
"Be glad she's on our side, Gnarl," the Overlord silenced his advisor. "I'm certain of her loyalty." Then he spurred on Ruau and hurried after his troops in a thundering gallop, as they threw themselves into Arcadiopolis cheering, shouting, crashing and flying.
And far away in the heart of the city the Emperor was standing on his balcony, two figures at his side. The woman on his left was concealed in a dark blue robe with a heavy hood, the man on his right was clad in a pristine white toga and wore a glistening monocle.
The collapse of the city wall was clearly visible by the cloud of dust on the horizon. High above it dark wings were beating the air.
"I'll ready the Vat, my Emperor," Marius said hastily. He hurried away.
The hooded woman looked from the dust cloud, far in front of her, to the Emperor, his back turned to her. His wide red cloak waved and fluttered in the rising wind.
Then Rose turned around as well and disappeared in the suddenly dark shadows of the Imperial Palace.
Once out of hearing range of the Emperor she pulled her hood down over her face even further.
"The cycle must take its course," a low voice muttered between the pillars.
As the army advances General Herbison watches with growing concern.
General: Jinx and her giant bat are a clear threat to the Overlord. You've seen how the army chants her name.
Fay: But his magic is vastly superior to hers.
General: I am aware of the magical implications. But remember the dream they shared?
Fay: What dream?
General Herbison hastily jogs away: Into the city my dear. For victory! For the reviews this story deserves!
Fay: What dream did they share?