The mages trembled, hands quivering on their staves. A tremor rippled toward them. The thudding of metal boots on stone echoed through the chaos. It hammered into their hearts, and as they gazed forward, the Everheart force loomed over them like a shadow that refused to let go.

  Stone chunks were carved out of the golems as silver arcs of light cut through the air. All the mages from the Emerald Tower took a step back, channeling whatever spells they could within their arsenal in a desperate attempt for survival. Spears of light ripped through the sky as magic circles spun above their heads. The rings of repetition unleashed a barrage of hell upon the advancing soldiers.

  Yet it didn’t matter.

  Tucker concisely instructed his men to shoot down each projectile as it manifested into their realm. Aura-clad arrows lanced above the heads of the shield-bearers, dismantling the mana-infused spells in an instant. Lines of soldiers locked their rectangular shields together. They moved forward as one precise unit.

  A steady rhythm reached the mages’ ears. Their hearts pounded in their chests, not with confidence but with fear. They were being pushed back to the brink of extinction, and before the mass of steel, a sense of helplessness gripped their throats, digging into their flesh.

  Thud… thud… thud…

  Boots struck the tiled floor in unison. Metal plates shifted. Leather gloves creaked. And spears gleamed with the tips pointed directly at the Empire’s lines. The Everheart formation moved as one. Their march pounded like the drums of war that engulfed the bastion, rattling the spears held over their shields.

  The army advanced.

  Rows of iron, metal, blood, and flesh pressing forward. Edges overlapped as the moonlight shone down upon their lines. Behind the wall of shields, faces disappeared, leaving only the gleam of aura within the men’s hardened eyes. Behind the first line, another row of spears jutted over their soldiers, swaying with the rhythm of their battle as golems were torn asunder.

  A myriad of spells struck the front ranks, shattering into fleeting traces of fiery mana. The mages paled. No matter how many spells they conjured, the formation never slowed, never broke. The shields absorbed the blows with a resounding force that they had never seen before.

  After all the training the Everheart soldiers had been through, spells of that caliber meant nothing. The impact passed through their arms and into their shoulders. The burden coursed through the line rather than being carried by a single pair of shoulders.

  With each step, the distance closed.

  And there was nowhere for them to run. The mages who rushed back shouted and screamed, pushing aside one another with sheer desperation to climb the stairs. But once they reached the base of the steps, a gleam of silver caught their eyes. Arcs of silver filled the air with blood splattering against worn armor. Dozens of soldiers climbed onto the mid floors from below, cutting down whatever foe dared to cross their path.

  The Everheart insignia with the four silver stars surrounding a lone crown entered their sights, drowning whatever hopes they had left. A few of the mages tried to conjure their spells once more, aiming to blink out of the hell that awaited them. Only for the mana to disperse once more right before their very eyes.

  “Please spare me—!”

  Blood erupted from the necks of those who begged. Voices died with the sound of metal slicing through flesh, severing limbs in one fell swoop.

  What should have been an easy battle for the mages to hold the line had instead turned into a one-sided massacre with the enemy pressing in from both sides. Once the final drop of blood fell onto the cold stone floor, Tucker lowered his blade and stared at the battlefield. Max stood by his side as more of their men gathered on their level.

  Tucker’s eyes swept across the bodies. “How many dead?”

  “Seven,” Max replied.

  “What about those with minor injuries?” he asked.

  “Forty.”

  “And those with severe injuries?”

  “None, the ones who couldn’t be healed with potions were put to rest,” Max answered, watching as the final groups from the lower levels stepped onto their floor.

  “Sir,” Jones stood before Tucker and saluted. “The last of us have climbed up with minor injuries and no casualties.”

  “No injuries?” Max lifted a brow.

  “We got lucky, all the other coffins landed together,” Brian said, stopping beside Jones with Ethan in tow.

  “We’re ready to begin the next step of the operation, sir,” Ethan said with a sharp salute, cutting down his hand once Tucker acknowledged it.

  Tucker glanced over at Liam, Brian, and Ethan as they delivered a curt nod. Most of their forces would be left on this level to hold the line. Nearly all the knights and a few of the militiamen would climb the stairs to the upper levels, and to an extent, they were leaving their comrades to die.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Brian, Liam, and Ethan, I entrust our flank to you,” Tucker said. “The other watchmen will be with you, but Ray and his team will follow me.”

  “Sounds good, sir.” Ray nodded, joining the ranks grouping around his Commander.

  Tucker stepped onto the stone steps wrapping around the brick cylinder that reached the next floor of the tower. At the very bottom of the stairs, he could see hundreds—no, thousands of golems rushing for the upper levels. In minutes they would arrive. Yet in the eyes of his men wasn’t fear. It was courage. Courage that extended beyond the hearts of mortals, one that was forged from the flames of despair and hardened by a resolve that shouldn’t exist.

  They rolled the cannons to the edge and formed ranks. Those who were on reserve formed two lines along the path to the ascending stairs.

  “Attention!” Brian called out.

  All the men on reserve stood straight, facing each other with one hand resting on the hilt of their swords. Their feet were together, arms locked to the side.

  “Salute!” Blaire ordered.

  In an instant, their free hands moved up the shortest path to their heads, with fingers and thumb extended. Their arm was at a forty-five degree angle. And seeing this, Tucker understood what they were doing.

  “A bit late for your appointment ceremony, but it’s better late than never,” Max said.

  Tucker smirked and nodded. “You fools always do something unnecessary, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

  He stared at the rows of heavily armored soldiers donned in a full iron set. Their faces were hidden behind their visors, but Tucker could see the steady eyes focusing on him. The runes on his black iron armor shimmered as he took a step forward. His dark green cloak, draped over his left shoulder, fluttered in the ashes and lingering mana.

  “Godspeed, Commander. We wish you the best of luck,” Liam said.

  “Land a good hit on those bastards for me,” Jones added.

  “I will,” Tucker replied.

  The Commander of the Stafford Coalition stepped forward, walking between the two rows of soldiers greeting him. Behind him were the Hearthfire and Lionheart knights, the knights of renown, and the few militiamen strong enough to accompany their ascent.

  He looked at the grueling path ahead of them. The light failed to pierce through the darkness of the upper sanctums of the tower, and the echoes of chains loudly reached their ears. His eyes sharpened, knowing that whatever awaited them on the next floor was beyond their recognition. An evil lurked in the shadows, and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand.

  Tucker grasped the hilt of his lumenite blade. Its black surfacing gleamed beneath the faint moonlight that fell from the crumbling section of the tower. His steps hammered against the stone stairs as he rushed to the next floor. Behind him were roughly a hundred of his best soldiers. Knights who had awakened their world and stepped onto a hundred battlefields with a hundred victories.

  On his left was Max, and on his right, Ray. Two of his most trusted confidants who had sworn their blades to his cause. Tucker gazed through his black iron vision as the last step drew closer. Soon, they would enter the next floor, and he could feel the slightest change in the wind from above.

  Hundreds of enemy forces were above them, waiting to ambush the Everheart forces from all sides. Something Tucker wouldn’t allow. He channeled a swirl of wind essence within his left hand, and to the side, Ray was also doing the same with his fire essence.

  Before they burst through the entrance of the stairs, Ray’s hand shot forth, releasing the flaming sphere, and Tucker did the same. In a split second, the flames erupted with a thunderous explosion. Pure energy ripped outward, propelled by the force of the wind that followed.

  In a heartbeat, Tucker burst through the entrance with his sword in hand. The foes that tried to ambush them were flung back, as if a battering ram had struck them square in the chest. Their limbs were charred with red vapor hissing from the gaps in their steel armor, hidden by their black cloaks draped over their bodies. A sight Tucker was far too familiar with.

  “The Empire’s covert forces…” Tucker muttered, gritting his teeth.

  All the men behind him maintained a spearhead formation with Tucker at the front. Together, they stormed towards the next stairwell on the far side, colliding with the wall of bodies that sought to block their path. Blades sang with the battle cries and torn flesh. Tucker clenched his sword and swung with such ferocity that he cut down the men who stood against him on the spot.

  Their screams filled his ears, but he didn’t stop. Tucker drove forward at the center of the line; his presence was like a wedge that forced the formation onward. None of the knights carried shields, only their main swords and a secondary one in case the first broke. Their bodies crashed into the enemy covert forces before they could reform their ranks, leaving behind a trail of corpses.

  “Forward!” Tucker roared.

  He cut down his sword with the knights answering. They marched through the chamber and over the bodies of their foes through sheer violence, cleaving wide arcs of silver while drawing lines of crimson. In the brutal swings of the Everheart knights were no wasted movements meant for show. Every strike cleared the ground before them. To pave the way for a future that belonged to those who came after.

  Tucker surged ahead with his blade, carving out narrow arcs at the vitals exposed through the gaps in his opponent’s armor. He broke the resistance with each step. Enemy soldiers lunged at him from the right and left, but before they could draw near, Max and Ray blocked their path. Their blades twisted in the air, cleaving the enemies in half mid-lunge.

  “There’s too damn many of them!” Ray shouted.

  His arms trembled as he blocked a spear aimed at his neck. Before the Empire’s soldier could respond, he ripped the weapon from the enemy’s grasp and kicked the man’s chest with a heavy thud. The soldier slammed into several other covert agents, and before they could answer, he hurled the spear into their bodies.

  “I'll clear the way!” Max declared. He raised his hands, lifting the greatsword above his head as the blade erupted with aura. The golden light pierced a section of the ceiling as the energy roared with a thunderous cry. With all his might, he brought it down towards the Emerald Tower’s ranks.

  But just as it came down, a powerful force from the other side rose in defiance. Violet aura rushed forth to meet Captain Maystone’s strike. The air screamed the instant the two forces met. Tucker shielded his body with aura and leaned forward, fighting against the wind that slammed against his body.

  The crushing wave of energy that rippled like lightning forced all the knights to halt. Golden and violet colors bled and bent against each other. Stone tiles fractured under their metal boots in a desperate attempt to escape the strain. Wind howled through the chamber from all directions, and even though none of them said a word, Tucker knew things had taken a turn for the worse.

  As the two forces faded in a draw, Tucker locked eyes with the lone Empire’s knight blocking their path. The man wore darkened silver armor with green veins pulsing on the surface. An emerald plume swayed with each step, and on his shoulders was the insignia of the Emerald Tower.

  Despite not being able to see his face, Tucker could tell from the dissipating ethereal aura that the Pyron had finally sent their best. Because the very man blocking their path was someone he had encountered long ago. In the outskirts of the Everheart Kingdom, in a bandit compound shrouded by trees.

  The foe before them was none other than Hemlock. A six-star aura knight of the Empire.