Olimpia

Excerpt From The Mad Scholar's Wall—

No one believed the report. We couldn't even conceive of the numbers needed to create such a hoard.

In desperation, the Legatus sent out more scouts, but the reality of the situation never changed. Only the estimates on the numbers we were facing.

We had days until they arrived, and even if there was an air of resignation permeating the fort at the news, we would not die without a fight.

Supplies for everything were called for and received. Food, clothing, leather, mental armor, water, salt, swords, spears, arrows, shields, and lumber poured through the gates in an endless stream of wagons.

And even though The Gauntlet had wall after wall of interlocking passageways designed to brake up and confuse the beasts, nearly the entire legion was either making earthworks and traps outside the walls or expanding and reinforcing the walls.

No one thought what we had was enough.

We even started expanding a network of tunnels underground, the last fallback in case we were pushed to the center of The Gauntlet. Or when, if the numbers of beasts that were being thrown around were accurate.

After days of frantic work, I remember standing on the walls. Looking at the cohorts outside the walls standing on the earthworks, planning to hold out as long as possible. And feeling my stomach drop out of my chest as the wave of beastmen pouring over the distant ridge of the step never ended.

It really was a hoard of beastmen a hundred thousand strong.

**********

There was only one way to describe what was around me.

It was a scorched wasteland.

And I wasn't even in the camp yet. Smoke hung in the air, and ash swirled along the ground before sweeping into the sky.

Off in the distance, the rolling hills of grass could be seen burning as flames raged over them.

Stepping past the berms of the dirt with sharp spears of wood sticking out of the earth, I finally got a good view of the Fish Camp.

"Ho, the camp! Move aside!" Cracked a commanding voice in the air.

Jerking out of my numb processing of the destruction, I pushed myself to the sides of the passage between the earthworks as a turma of cavalry thundered past me from behind. All thirty of the men and women glanced at me and my recruits as they passed, but their faces hardly flickered from the grim frowns and determined eyes plastered on them. They had a mission, and I was not a part of it.

They circled within the first thirty feet of the Fish Camp, churning up the loose dirt. Then an armor-clad figure fell from the sky, thumping to the ground, and walked up to the commander.

The two spoke for a few minutes before the knight grew a board of stone from the ground and rose into the air, zipping off into the camp and being swallowed by the night once more.

"Ho!" Shouted the cavalry commander as he held up his saber. As one, the turma of cavalry performed a tight turn and exited the Fish Camp, showing no indications of turning towards The Triad as the horse's hooves beat against the ground.

Their eyes were fixed to the east. Locked onto something that could not be seen, both for the night's darkness and the distance, but they knew it was there and were determined to get there.

I could guess where they were going. The was only one reasonable destination on the eastern road they were taking, at least in the long distance. And they didn't appear to be stopping or slowing to patrol around the camp.

They were headed to Cross to report the attack and call for aid.

As I tracked the cavalry vanishing into the gloom, I found myself looking at my trainees. “Spread out, search for survivors." Turning, I walked into the camp.

Within the first few steps, I came across the bodies of dead legionaries. I didn't even bend over to see if they were alive. Their throats were slashed open, and their chests had gaping wounds, with not even a trickle of blood leaking out.

No, they were not among the living within this smoldering camp.

Although there were still burning patches of fire nearly the same color as a gold coin, most of the fires had already been put out. At least those not contained within braziers or burning on torches.

Within moments of me looking at the still-burning fires, the ground rose up around them before collapsing, snuffing them out. Now, only the moon could be said to be lighting up most of the camp.

It didn't bother me, as elves needed little more than the moon's light to see fine at night.

Blinking, I let the noise I had been ignoring tear through me. The screams and groans of the wounded and dying scraped at my heart. Get to work, asshole.

kneeling down, I pulled back a scrap of a tent, revealing a young woman curled up in a slight depression in the ground.

Her eyes were squeezed shut with pain, and her armed were crossed over her stomach, keeping the broken-off spear shaft sticking out of her gut locked in place.

Slowly I reached down, touching her arm, causing her to flinch back in fear.

Eyes snapping open, "Ahh! N— Don— Who… are you?" she screamed in bewildered shock before she frantically searched behind me, “Ar— they gone?"

"Yes." I softly said, tugging at her arms, "The beastkin are gone, but I need to get a look at your wound." After a few more soothing words, I managed to pull apart her arms, revealing the base spear shaft.

Gently, I pressed my finger against the edge of her wound and released a small pulse of mental energy into her body.

Nodding to myself as a picture formed in my mind, I looked the woman in the eyes, stopping for a moment in surprise before giving my head a shake as I noticed they were violet, "I'm going to remove the shaft. You're lucky that it somehow managed not to cut your intestines on the way in, but once you start moving around, it's just a matter of time until it cuts something, and then theirs a good chance no one can help you. You're not in danger of bleeding out, so it will take hours for the healers to get to you. Bottom line, you'll be fine so long as we get the spearhead out, okay?"

Looking at her face, I could tell she did not understand most of what I was saying. Her eyes were clouded with pain.

With gentle firmness, I pushed her shoulder so she would roll onto her back. Then planted my hand on her sternum as the other grabbed the spear shaft right about her stomach.

"Stay still," I said soothingly while looking at her increasingly panicked and fear-filled eyes. At her growing emotions, I sent her a pulse of steady confidence and reassurance as I gave her a small smile. "It will hurt slightly, and you will feel an uncomfortable pressure, but it will be over soon." At my words and mental pulse, her erratic breathing slowed, and she gave a short nod that she was ready.

Forming a mental strand, I layered it around the spear shaft, then slid the now tube down the shaft and spearhead, rounding out any sharp edges. Slowly, I increased the size of the shell of the mental force tube, forcing her intestines to the sides until there was a large enough gap for the spearhead to slide out.

The moment the hole was wide enough, I pulled the spearhead out in one smooth motion before shrinking the obstruction I formed in her gut. Dropping the spear to the side, I wiped off the sweat forming on my forehead.

What I had just done had stepped awfully close to exerting mental energy directly on a person. And I didn't have the power to do that for more than a moment, and that was at full strength. It only worked now because she was willing and in shock.

She let out a few grunts and whimpers of pain while I worked, but it was hardly noticeable.

Leaning to the side, I pulled out my knife and then used it to cut away a relatively clean-looking section of the tent that was covering her. Folding it up, I pressed it to her wound before giving her a smile, hold this tightly in place, and you should be fine.

A grateful smile stretched her pale lips as she said, "Thank you, brother."

With a start, I looked back, as I had already started to turn away, and I finally noticed her pointed ears.

A flush of embarrassment rose in my chest as I said, “Ahh~. It seems I forgot my bedside manner. I am Scout Green." I gave her a small bow as I got to my feet.

"Trainee Luna." She said. "And thank you, Scout Green… Again."

"No problem," I said, half distracted. I was looking around, and I did not see any area for gathering the wounded. It was right by the main road, so setting up here should be fine. "I'm gonna make this a collection spot for the wounded. Stay still, and we'll do what we can."

She acknowledged my words, slowly closing her violet eyes. My eyes were locked on her face for long seconds, even as I knew I had a lot to do.

Her face shifted from the hard lines of pain to a sharp elegance as she relaxed. She had high cheekbones and razor-thin eyebrows, and I thought her hair color was a dark green. Combined with her violet eyes, she was striking.

As my body turned, I could no longer keep my eyes on her form, forcing me to pull my eyes away and get back to business.

Looking around the scorched ground, I looked for anyone nearby.

"Joxin! Anooha! Come here!" The two looked over at me at the call and started jogging over to me.

Instead of waiting for them, I began walking as I looked around, taking in my surroundings as a whole.

Right off the bat, I could take in the main changes to the countryside, as they were blatant. The main gate to the northeastern gate to The Triad was destroyed, nothing more than a pile of collapsed and melted stone. And the center of the Fish Camp looked like a giant decided to dig around for something.

Long trenches that were multiple full-grown adults deep crisscrossed the area. Other spots were craters thirty feet across and some amount deep because I could not see the bottom from where I was.

And at the center of all that destruction were four or five cohorts of legionaries still standing in a defensive formation.

I could feel layers of shields projected around the cohorts as messengers sprinted to and from their ranks. Another small group was trying to repair the ground enough to make a path out of the destruction for the cohorts. And I could only make out that in such detail because some of them were carrying sunlamps lighting up their ranks.

Around the edges of the destruction, I could see individuals start getting up and stumbling around as they searched for Ancestor knew what. I could even see a completely unharmed tent standing alone at the edge of the camp. Standing as if nothing of consequence had happened as it waited for its owner.

Whoever was in charge of the new legionaries, no one could call them fish after tonight, must have wanted to keep them together. Together and Unified so they could defend themselves. The beastkin could very well come back at any moment.

After I thought I had a grasp on the situation, "Joxin, gather up anyone able to run and head back to the fort, find the medicos and grab all the bandages and stretchers you can get, then come back."

"Instructor!" Joxin said while slamming his fist to his chest before turning and running off, but I paid no attention to him. I had moved on.

"Anooha, I'm making this a casualty collection point. Tell everyone to bring the critically wounded here. And I need you to find or make basins of water and bring them here from the river… And food, we're going to need it soon."

"Instructor!" Anooha said, also slamming her fist to her chest and scurrying off.

As she ran off to gather people for her task, I started spiraling around my collection point.

I checked everybody I came across to see if they were still living. And it paid off.

Within the utter destruction of the camp, the beastkin left a surprisingly large number of people alive. Gut and head wounds were the most common, with spear stabs to the legs coming in third.

Sure, every third person I came across was dead, but from the quick glance I gave them, it was more often than not from shock and blood loss than a fatal stab.

It was weird.

I helped those I could with what I had on hand and moved them to the growing collection of wounded people. When Joxin finally came back with the bandages, stretches, and a few medicos, I started using the stretches to collect those I did want to move under their own power in case they would worsen their wounds.

The medicos began doing patch jobs on the most critical patients before sending them back to the medico facilities back in The Triad.

Hours passed in such a manner until the cohorts at the center of camp started marching past us as they made their way to The Triad.

As the last few centuries passed, two broke off to the sides of the entrance while the last stopped in the center of our gathering.

"Who's in command here!" shouted a deep, resonant voice.

Looking around, I saw that those who reacted to the voice at all — instead of focusing on their work — were making sidelong glances at me.

Sighing, I finished tying off a bandage before standing up and walking toward the voice. "Here!" I shouted, tiredly waving my arm.