Phuong sprinted along the northern ramparts, purple Spirit Blade humming in his fist. He didnât need it yet, but it made him feel better. There were demons everywhere now. They could sense him. Sense his soul. And he wanted nothing more to go down and let them try to take it.
But he had a city to defend. Even if he
wasnât
technically in charge.
The holy cityâs walls were a madhouse of shouting players, scrambling militia civilians, and the occasional panicked idiot who had absolutely no business being there. Phuong tried not to be annoyed with Chinua. The man was competent, but he should have been ready for all possibilities. He should have assumed something would go wrong and plan for it.
âMartial law is in immediate effect!â He roared, voice carrying with a little system-boosted flair from the civilian announcer at his side. âNon-combat civiliansâget yourselves to the buildings or your homes. To designated militiaâstart using the ballista, or make something that kills, and stay with the players on the walls!â
A thousand or more civilians heard him and started to move. Phuong still couldnât believe the numbers in the holy city. Alchemists, builders, craftsmen, and at least one very determined fisherman with a crossbow, were hauling crates of alchemical grenades and mana potions up the stairs like it was the yearly sale at their apocalypse market.
A young civilianâa pretty dark-haired girl with a Crafter tagâtripped right in front of him and his team. His son (Hieu, now a scout) caught her elbow, and steadied her. They both went red as the boy gave her a quick once-over.
âYou, uh, O-OK?â
She nodded and smiled, then stared at Chinua and the group of powerful players behind him and swallowed.
âYes. Thank you.â
Phuong rolled his eyes and waved her off, turning back towards the wall as he stared at the forming portals.
Youths
. But it was hard not to be proud of his son, who had grown much in the last several months, rising to every challenge and risking his life to guide players in the field. Heâd even got his stutter largely under control.
But it was no time for self-reflection. They had to get out their and start closing those portals before they got out of hand. And they had to do it quickly. The only question was how many to send. How many should he risk.
His profile pinged.
Carlâs personal messenger sent something like a voice-mail that could be used in city limits. The tone was sharp and quick.
Got maybe a hundred players back, most en route to you from the palace. A hundred more coming on foot. Rest are tied up on minor settlements. Enemyâs hitting weak points like theyâve got a damn map. Or a spy.
Phuong took a steadying breath. Spies were
entirely
possible. Who knew what sort of objectives the system might be giving the kind of men whoâd served Jeong loyally? Perhaps theyâd be spared death, given power on other planes of existence.
Be ready for anything.
Phuong took another breath and tried to remember his young lordâs wise words. He was going to have to risk militia-civilians out in the field, tooâanyone who could close portals. He flipped through the list in his profile, getting ready to have his civilian team start sending messages and get people moving up.
Then the sky started to go dark. A big, red warning flashed across his eyes.
[Nexus Integrity: 97%]
Phuong fought his fear. No matter what, he had to stay calm. The holy cityâs Nexus beacons were in the center of everything, mostly in the heart of the palace. The only way they were taking damage was if something warped inside. Or tunneled. Or flew. He turned and scanned the sky.
Dozens of floating crystal casters and winged harpies were pouring out of rifts high above the city, literally materializing in the air. Spells and javelins were raining down on the walls. On the streets. Defensive shields flickered everywhere, but a civilian ballista crew vanished in a burst of arcane fire.
Kiaanâs voice crackled in his ear.
âMassive planar energy from the north-east side. Possible planar lord forming. Suggest all available tier one players.â
The fear was becoming animal panic. The same terrible feeling Phuong had known in his first battleâthat awful moment he knew the chaos was beyond his control or understanding. He turned and saw it from his position on the wallâa massive tear in reality, dark and churning, something enormous already trying to push through. The ground trembled. Dust and stone began to swirl upward all around it like a reverse tornado.
He tapped his civilian assistant and opened a direct line to Carl.
âWe need Mason. Right now.â
âNo shit. Scouts already messaged him,â Carl shouted over background noise, voice grim. âNo response. Hold the walls. Weâre on our way but we have these fuckingâŠwould you
shoot
them for, Christâs sake? What do you need my
permission
? Just hold on, Phuong, weâll be there soon!â
The call ended, and Phuong exhaled. He had to decide. Did they just stand there and wait for Mason to deal with whatever that was? For all they knew, he was busy with his own battle and would be minutes. Or maybe couldnât arrive at all.
The answer came quickly. They couldnât just wait there for that portal to form. They had to try and close it before it was too late. Maybe they could even banish the creature before it properly spawned. He turned to his team.
âCarl can protect the Nexus. The others can hold the walls. We close that portal. Everything else is secondary.â
Seamus, Alex, Becky, and John were waiting like coiled springs, looking out at enemies in every direction. One by one they met his eyes. He saw the anxious desire to fight, but also the trust. Theyâd go when and where he told them to. They trusted his judgment. It was a thing he didnât take for granted.
They were fellow soldiers, yesâpeople whoâd been with him through many hardships. But they were also members of his family now. Like the once lost son also at his side, eyes glazed with power as he examined the rift.
âUh, sir,â Hieu cleared his throat. âI canât be sure, but I think itâs actually
two
major rifts. I think theyâre trying to hide one by covering it with the other.â
Phuong watched his son and smiled. He wasnât afraid anymore. He felt a stab of pride, thinking heâd enjoy telling Kiaan the young man had spotted something he hadnât. The boy had taken the Scout class on top of his more academic Cartographer. In fact heâd insisted on it, to help players in the field. And heâd done an excellent job the last few months, usually at Phuongâs demanding side.
He resisted the urge to tell him they were family. The boy knew, he was certain, even if he didnât understand all the details. It was enough.
Not the time
, he thought, swallowing the words like bad rations.
Not while demons are trying to eat the city.
âOne portal. Two portals. Our task is the same. All civilians stay behind the walls.â He looked at his fellow soldiers and allowed himself a small smile. âAre you ready?â
Becky cracked her neck and formed her Familial Shield with a wink. Seamus rolled his eyes as his robe wrapped around him like living flame, staff growing from his hands. John nodded as he tested his powers, energy crackling around him. Alex did and said nothing, like it was just another day, not worthy of some big speech. Weirdly, this gave Phuong the most comfort of all.
âWeâre here! Weâre coming too! I made the sky a mess but my manaâs still good.â
They all looked down as a pregnant Demi and the goblin engineer Lodie came rushing up the rampart stairs. Phuong frowned, knowing Demi especially was very powerful, but also not wild about the idea of risking
three
of Masonâs women.
He now noticed a lot of flyers were dropping out of the sky, too, amidst a moving miasma of green mist. And he knew the moment Demi reached him it wasnât a debate. This was no simple soldier for him to command. She hugged Becky and smiled, but her glowing, immortal eyes had enough stubborn will Phuong knew sheâd help no matter what he said.
âGlad to have you,â he said, because what else could he say. He gave the useful but dangerous goblin a skeptical glance. âNo bombs. Or grenades. We donât all regenerate.â
Lodie nodded enthusiastically, then put a hand on her chin.
âDoes a gun that
shoots
grenades count? I wouldnât be
throwing
them.â
Phuong rolled his eyes. âYes. I mean yes it counts.
No
grenades.â He waved his people on, giving the civilians and especially his son a last look. âBe ready. I may call for assistance with the portals. If you can find Blake or Erik, get them over there as soon as possible.â
Hieu nodded.
âIâll find them, sir, and get them moving.â
Phuong put a hand on the young manâs shoulder, then moved to the gate. His players followed in silence, right behind him as he gestured the gate open and stepped out into the field. He moved to a jog, snorting as the closest enemies spotted him and his teams planar-killing auras and bolted.
The players started activating their defensive powers and taking position, no words required now for the very experienced teamâDemi and Lodie the only âoutsidersâ at the back.
âStay with Alex,â Phuong called to them. âGo where he goes. Call for help if needed. If I tell you to fall back to the wall, you fall back instantly. Understood?â
They said they did, and he put them from his mind. The worrying was done with now, and nothing else to think about until the variables changed. He had a portal to close. He gripped his soul blade, and picked up the pace.