Marshal had been in a few fights by now. Those fights had all been on the ground. Fighting in the air and staying in the air was entirely new to him! And from the looks of those around him, he was not the only one.
Amongst the death and destruction, it was also very much general all-around chaos going on around him. What started with him crashing into a dreadwing and using that movement to unleash a blast of magic had turned into him diving and weaving all over the place. He was throwing his body around in what had to be unnatural ways to not crash into dreadwings, explosions from magical attacks, or the rapidly expanding number of dragons AND dreadwings in the air. He was, of course, blasting his attacks about, usually just overpowered Wind Blasts. Still, at times he was able to get enough time to form a Gas Explosion or even only a snap Cyclone to break up large packs of dreadwings and hoping the snap storm was more helpful to his fellow dragon than it was harmful.
And that was the biggest issue. There had to be over half the damn cave up here! It was getting crowded as hell. It was getting so bad that Marshal quickly resorted to his claws and tail over his magic. In doing so, it was opening him up more and more to retaliation even as he was continually crashing from one dreadwing to the next. He needed space!
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Down on the ground, Claw could do little but chuck his giant boomerang at the occasional dreadwing that was foolish enough to get too close to the village and horde of younger dragons and non-combatant foxes taking cover within.
He thankfully was not alone in his task. His hunters and what few warriors he had were doing the same, and there were a few of the more physically weak but magically capable dragons helping him out. But it was quickly becoming apparent that more and more of the dragons caught up in what he could only swear had to be the biggest air battle ever seen since the beginning of the Ape Wars, were losing strength and falling out. Many injured and others magically drained. The younglings had been training to defend themselves, sure, but none of them were ready for a brawl of this magnitude.
He could see the main Poison dragon and the leading Ice dragoness jumping between the edge of the village and the brawl, helping dragons escape, with both trying to use what first-aid they could offer to the worst off before getting back into it. Sticking near the edge of the brawl was the central shadow dragoness and the giant fireball of rage.
A giant fireball of rage was the only description he could give Horhe, for it was Horhe. That dragon was the only one with the power and anger to be able to pull off the barrage of spontaneous combustion going on somewhere near the upper edges of the fight. How that dragon was still going, Claw hoped he would never find out.
He could also see where the Earth and Electric Leads were. The electricity was nothing more than strikes of lightning creating webs of light, not only catching stragglers but also any dreadwing unfortunate enough to get blasted nearby the constantly exploding blasts of imploding and exploding earth energy. Said explosions being caused by the said Earth Lead and causing all kinds of zones of death.
And yet, that was nothing compared to the dance death being caused by the purple dragon and his companion. And to even his trained and experienced eye, it was indeed a dance. The way they worked together was near flawless. They were covering each other's backs, creating zones of attack for one while casually throwing snap magic in an instant that would take others many seconds to form. And just moving through the swarm as if it were a festival, leaving nothing but raining corpses in their wake.
The only dragon Claw could not see within the growing horde was Marshal. He assumed he was somewhere in the center of the horde purely based on the fact dreadwings kept trying to stay in that general area, but given the number of dragons still in the air, he was unsure.
Catching his weapon as it returned from slicing off a dreadwing's wing, Claw was about to turn to Walf. Said dragon was firing off Wind Blasts at an alarming rate. Claw had to see if the dragon could do anything to try and find Marshal when he heard a resounding thud and witnessed a flash formed sideways tornado made up of tumbling dreadwings and wind, breaking free of the swarm.
At the edge of the new dreadwing formation came the Wind Dragon Claw had been looking for. The dragon in question was coming out of what looked like a spin, which was probably what had formed the tornado. Partway through his spin, it appeared he turned back the way he came; Claw could barely make out the drawback of the head to then thrust his entire body headfirst to unleash the largest ball of wind he was sure Marshal had ever released.
The ball traveled directly back the way he had broken out of swarm from and back into the throng. Marshal was already flying down and away from the fight. It looked like he was headed directly to the village when Claw heard what he could only guess was an explosion, then implosion, then an explosion again before turning into another cacophony of wind magic in the center of the swarm, hopefully taking out more dreadwings.
He did not hear or see any dragons dropping, so he figured it was all dreadwings and moved on.
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Now free of the fight, Marshal was able to see what was going on properly. And thus think.
And the most significant thing he saw: They were losing the fight.
He would be the first to admit they were putting up a hell of a fight. Each dragon took out several dreadwings before they tried to escape because of injury or because they were already starting to fall out of the sky from using up their magic.
And there was the problem. While it looked like no one had died yet, he thanked any deity who listened for that. However, the attrition rate was too high to keep this up. For every Dreadwing they took down, another took its place, and it looked like they were not stopping.
Marshal now understood why the dragons had such a hard time fighting the apes and why the corrupted form of Cynder entering the war broke what had to be tired forces. The games just never did a good job of showing just how appositely massive the dark army was and how quickly the apes alone could replenish their numbers. He did not even want to know if the Grublins were still around because if they were, this slow route would have turned into an all-around retreating slaughter already.
And so, knowing this, Marshal knew what had to be done. And where to start.
He beelined it for the village, not even caring for the dreadwings which had broken off from the swarm and were heading his way. He could sense them, but more importantly, he could see and sense the long-range attacks coming from the edge of the village as well as the handful of dragons trying to help those trying to escape the fight already shifting to take those dreadwings on.
Marshal's priority was Claw. In his mind, the fox was the only one who could organize an actual retreat. It would have to be a fighting retreat, but it needed to be a retreat all the same. And so, as he screamed towards the village, his eyes tried to pick out his target.
Thankfully his eyes caught on Walf first, standing next to Claw, giving him a quick and easy destination. This allowed him to change direction and even speed up.
When he arrived, he did not have time to land, so instead, he threw on the breaks and hovered in mid-air, calling to Claw at the same time, "Claw! We can't keep this up. There's too many!"
Claw's face took on an instant 'no shit' glare before shouting back, the wind Marshal was throwing off with his oversized-wings was not precisely a gentle breeze, "Then what do you suggest! They'd run us down with those numbers!"
Marshal nodded as he responded, "I know. How much time would you need to organize a retreat? To be able to gather anything and everything you might need to at least start running."
Walf interjected quickly here, "What about those that have to hold them back! They'd be fighting or at least trying to outrun the constant reinforcements the entire way."
Claw made a gesture of agreement. Marshal had already been thinking about that, thankfully, "I'm working on that! It's a long shot, but if I can pull it off, It should buy us time. I just need to know how long you will need to get ready."
Claw gave an exclamation of frustration, almost sounding like a guttural yip, and looked back towards the village. He must have seen something because he quickly turned back to Marshal, "If you can give us any form of a gap for any time, that would help! We aren't exactly new to running!"
Marshal glanced at the village. He looked just long enough to see what was probably described as organized chaos as every able-bodied creature rushed between the homes and sort-of-storehouses the foxes used, packing everything and anything that could carry a load. Dragons, carts, the strange Rhino-Beetle-hybrid mounts, the foxes, all were used and packed as much as they could and, from the looks of things, moved towards the back of the village.
Marshal looked back at Claw and nodded, "Understood. Be ready, fail, or success. We may only have moments."
Claw growled as he responded, "Don't go waiting on us then!"
Marshal nodded and, with a heave, sped back towards the fight, infusing his voice with his magic in the hopes it would carry on the wind as he needed it to. "Georgia! Clear me a path through! Harlid, Horhe, follow me up!"
He took the Horhe's roar of rage and the barrage of Explosive Shadow Cannon shots flying past him as confirmation that they heard and started on what had to be his crazies,t and quite possibly most brutal bastardization of the laws of physics (and perhaps the laws of thermodynamics), plan he had and hoped would ever come up with.
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Moonlight was unsure if he should be impressed or concerned. Not just at the destructive power of his boss, those spells of his were something else entirely. But mostly at the sheer wanton disregard for life the dreadwings and their riders had. They had to be dying by the hundreds if the sounds coming from below were any indication, and still, they kept squeezing through, widening the hole as they did, allowing more and more to go through.
He had moved well clear of the entrance and the swarm near it as soon Shadowfang called out. He had moved even further after the giant wolf had cast his first spell. And again, further both when the Wind tornado came up in response and when the damn wolf cast his spell a second time!
He wanted nothing to do with the particular death frenzy, which was that hole. Be it by a stray magic attack or the frenzied dreadwings hoping to feast on the poor dragons below. He could care less. He was an assassin, damn it! Not a damage sponge.
The wolf and two of his hind legged friends did not seem to care so much. The Hind legged wolf with the maddening staff was one of the ones standing next to the giant wolf. The standing wolf seemed to be contemplating something as he stared at what was going on. The other, Moonlight was positive, was the leader of the creatures who maddened him from the shadows.
The other creature's muzzle was long, similar to the dragon's, had spines going down the back of its head and short spikes coming out of its neck on both sides, almost nubs, really. Its ears looked more like slits on the sides of its head. If Moonlight had to describe it in a single sentence, then this creature is what happens within a lizard, a bird, and a wolf had a demented offspring.
The creature next to Moonlight's employer had a unique scar that covered much of the right side of his face. Two different sizes of circular red lines of old scar tissue, with the bigger one going through his eye. The farthest side of the right side of this creature's face was also discolored, completing the scar.
Three of them seemed to stare at the swarm of suicidal dreadwings, making their way into the cave below. Shadowfang seemed almost giddy, well gitty for him. The other two just seemed to stand there, making sure nothing went wrong.
Moonlight was getting close to getting board. He could faintly feel the magic from below them despite the colossal army he was surrounded by, all trying to get a piece of the action. He had done his job, now he waited for the next one, and in the meantime, counted his gems.
The last idea intrigued him. Yes, he could count his gem while he waited. He needed to make sure the Wolf had not tried to undercut him. It would not have been the first time, that's for sure.
He was about to do so when a new feeling came through. He had felt large bursts of magic throughout the fight. Of course, the level of that first tornado had become reasonably standard for some of the magic below. But now, he sensed something else. He could faintly sense it, a magical build-up. It did not quite feel like a fury, too controlled.
While the feeling was intriguing, it was also worrying. What could someone be doing with as much magic as he could be feeling?
Sadly, he was unable to get very long into trying and figuring it out. He felt the magic go off milliseconds before the effects took place. The sound was deafening, and the pressure-implosion-explosion force was mighty, but that was nothing compared to the all-consuming wave of heat and flame that came forth.
If the initially responding tornado that first closed the hole had been a pack animal's kickback, this explosion was more the swinging of a Warhammer by a giant!
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Marshal's idea had worked better than he had hoped, and that was the problem! He had not expected it to go off so close to the hole! For some reason, he had hoped all of the explosive force would radiate outward, but he had forgotten that pressure waves expand in all directions, including down!
He had realized his mistake halfway between letting the spell loose and it going off. He had next to no time to correct his error, and considering how close he had to get to let the attack lose, he knew he did not want to get swatted out of the sky by what was about to happen!
So again, no time for anything fancy. Brute force would have to do. With a roar, he threw his forward paws out, and in doing so, his magic commanded all the air in front of and around him to charge forward and slam against the hole at almost the exact same time. It was only thanks to the physic-defying portions of magic that, in doing so, stopped the explosive force from entering the cave.
Marshal did not have long to contemplate this as the third part of the spell activated, creating the sound which he could only limit and the fireball itself.
As close as Marshal was, he felt the heat but thankfully not the fire. He was throwing as much magic as he could to prevent it from doing permanent harm to him. Despite not intending to do so, he also figuratively and literally threw more fuel onto the fire allowing the fireball to consume more and more and thus remain and radiate heat.
While Marshal was concentrating on not being burnt, Horhe had another idea. He could feel the fire and knew that the heat was being wasted mostly on the air around it. To correct this, he flew past Marshal. Not feeling the heat himself, he reached out and touched the fireball. That he could handle, and that is precisely what he wanted.
Horhe reached into the flame with his magic, and as the wind magic which created it died out, his magic gave new life. With the fire burning and his magic and fresh fuel from Marshal's wind, Horhe forced the fireball to shrink, concentrating all of that heat closer and closer to the ground around the hole, rapidly heating and then even melting the ground. He held onto it for as long as he could before the strain of his muscles and his magic became too much.
With a cry, Horhe was forced to release his hold on the miniature sun he had created and started to dive to get away from it so as not to get hit by any dripping lava. He did not want to test just how immune he was to heat and flame.
Thankfully, with Marshal still throwing an ungodly amount of wind up at the ceiling, no molten rock rained down. The bottom of the hole quickly filled in and then cooled against the fierce wind that met it, creating a solid surface, and while it took longer for the rest of the newly formed lava pool and the ball of raging heat that had developed it to cool off it had done the job.
Realizing he could now stand the heat, Marshal stopped his magic with a stagger of wings that almost caused him to drop before he righted himself. He then turned to the nearby Harild, who had sort of frozen in shock, and yelled towards him, "Harlid! Reinforce it!"
Hearing his name, Harild was quickly brought back to the present and rushed up to the still-hot rock with a nod of understanding. It was not hot enough to hurt him, thankfully, so he slammed his forepaws against the rock and started to force as much magic as he could into it. His goal was similar to what Spyro had tried to teach all of the earth dragons, Earth Ball. Create a reinforced piece of rock infused with magic so that it was as strong as you wanted to be.
The difference between that and what he was now trying to do was the Earth Ball was temporary. He was trying to make it a little bit more long term. And so he pushed all the magic he could with one instruction: to get stronger, more challenging, more durable. It would not be as strong as bedrock or what had previously made up the cave's ceiling. That was not the goal. The goal was only to slow those above down. To make it so that it would last even a few more minutes.
By the time Harild was done, not only was the rapidly cooling and newly formed rock so saturated with magic that Harlid felt satisfied, but the still cooling lava above had been infused. It would be able to develop into the same strength as the already cooled rock.
Harlid dropped back down to where Marshal was hovering, a point in which Horhe was starting to rise back up.
Harlid, once level, glared hard to Marshal, "What the hell was that!?"
Marshal, breathing heavily from the unholy amount of magic he had just used, looked back at Harlid, "A Thermobaric explosion. I think, or I guess close enough. Read about them once; I was really bored in physics at the time."
Horhe's growl was reserved, he like the other two, he was not strictly used to throwing that much magic around in that short amount of time. "Whatever it was, it was damn near suicidal."
Marshal smiled, "Yea, but it worked"
The other two males wanted to punch the wind dragon so rigorously, but neither of them really had the strength. On top of that, an explosion below them reminded them of the fact that while they may have dealt with the reinforcements, for now, there was still a battle going on below them.
And so, Marshal, with a partial smile still on his face and a sigh on lips, commented, "The job is never done." And dived right back into the action, Horhe and Harlid following shortly after with exasperated huffs. All three of them aimed to finish the fight quickly so they could get out of there before the army made it back through.
AN: "A thermobaric weapon, aerosol bomb, or vacuum bomb is a type of explosive that uses oxygen from the surrounding air to generate a high-temperature explosion. In practice, the blast wave typically produced by such a weapon is of a significantly longer duration than that produced by a conventional condensed explosive." Thank you, Wikipedia. Legit searched for the largest type of gas-based explosion, and this is what I got. And for those wondering, No, this was not a true thermobaric. This was one of the closer Wind Magic equivalents. A regular bomb's fireball wouldn't stick around long enough for even a tenth of what happened here, magic! Thinking of calling the initial explosion that Marshal used Gas Nuke, what do you think? Also, fun fact, the initial blast, and implosion was the magic creating the situation needed to develop the thermobaric part. For all intents and purposes, it was a side effect of the intended effect!
Like I said in the last chapter, I created this one directly after the last one. Sadly, I didn't do that for the next, and I needed to take care of a few things (including some editing, I kind of started typing and didn't stop). I know I miss many things when editing, I still find errors in my copies of previous chapters, which aggravates me to no end that I keep forgetting them. But I'm trying my best here. I hope you all can forgive the issues.
And if not, I look forward to the Rage!
In other news:
The new creature is mine. I was young and dumb and wanted to add another player to the dark army. And yes, I have already mentioned them in Warriors of the Fallen because that story keeps wishing to spoil this one for some reason!
And a reminder, since it's been a while, Shadowfang belongs to Sithman91 from DeviantArt.
The other wolf will get a proper intro next chapter.
And on that note and until we meet again, Happy Reading!