Chapter 792: Chapter 792 - Desperate struggle [1/2]
They would not be in time. At least, not entirely.
Despite his seemingly uncontrollable rage, Zohran still knew the meaning of defence. Wildly swinging his swords, he howled and created a zone of metal and claw that deflected a small part of the oncoming onslaught.
At the same time, to the intruders’ great surprise, pillars of yellow sandstone rose from the ground to smash several more spells apart. To their knowledge, none of these three possessed an earth or stone affinity.
In the end, only a third of the launched spells impacted Zohran’s body, but these still sent him howling back the way he came, blood seeping from between his trembling, jackal lips.
Zohran suffered a heavy blow before combat even began, but it did bring a hint of clarity back to his feral eyes. "Gah!" he snarled as his body hit the floor and he instantly scrambled back to his feet. One clawed hand quickly grabbed his head, digging his nails into the skin beneath his fur.
"You alright there, big guy?" Zahra asked, cautiously. Nasir quicly appeared next to her. After failing to do anything in Zohran’s defence, he’d quickly retreated again.
"I— Ugh— M— My head," Zohran growled aggressively, now using his other hand to smack himself in the face. "M— Makes no sense... I— I liked Karim, but... Ack! Grrrr! S— So much anger!"
"Well... you can talk at least," Nasir muttered strangely. Despite his usual cold demeanor, there was clear discomfort at Zohran’s situation. Whether the reason for that was a surprising amount of care for the shapeshifter, or something else, only he knew.
Before the tortured Zohran could respond, more spells from the intruders flew in their direction. Zohran quickly snapped again, charging into the fray once more. This time, however, Nasir and Zahra were close by, quickly engaging them as well.
Strangely, it wasn’t just the three of them engaging with the enemy. The very city itself appeared to rise up in their defence, but only the intruders were surprised. The Maghreb trio seemed to know exactly what was happening, but naturally didn’t explain. What was obvious, however, was Zahra’s increasing exhaustion.
The air cracked with light and flame as the intruders’ second volley was unleashed. Zahra, sweat dripping down her temple, drew a long breath and snapped her fingers. A black veil of illusion swept over two of the casters, and their cries echoed as their vision collapsed into a void. Their fireballs veered off course, scorching the stone facades of nearby houses instead of flesh.
Nasir stamped his spear into the earth, magma gushing upward to coat his frame. The glowing plates of molten rock hissed as ice and lightning spells slammed into him, their energy cracking but not breaking through. He lunged forward, spear spinning with brutal precision—then twisted his weapon, igniting its tip. A roaring magma-drill spun alive, shredding through a hastily conjured barrier and forcing one Arcanist to leap aside, cloak aflame.
Still furious, Zohran howled and split into two. The shadow-clone darted left, sabers whispering through the air. The real jackal burst right, his blades now smoking with venomous shadow. His sudden feint forced the intruders to split their focus. A whip of wind sliced past his cheek, but he barreled forward anyway, sabers crossing in a brutal arc that nearly clipped one of the blinded casters.
The invaders fought back viciously.
A woman with a crackling storm affinity thrust both palms forward—forks of blue-white energy lashed toward Zohran. Black runes flared across his fur and his body shimmered into shadow, causing the bolts to sizzle through empty air where his chest should’ve been.
Another intruder, fire-tongued and merciless, conjured a burning circle beneath Zahra’s feet, flame spears erupting upward. Zahra shrieked and threw herself sideways, only surviving because one of the sandstone pillars crashed down between her and the blaze.
"T— Too close..." she panted, then pulled another illusion blade into being. She stripped it of sound and visibility both, and the phantom dagger vanished into the air before tearing a shallow gash across the lightning-woman’s ribs.
But Zahra was paling slightly now. Although her aetherium storage was fine, it looked like a kind of mental exhaustion was quickly taking form behind her eyes. Nasir saw it and snarled. "Stay behind me!" he barked, shoving his spear forward again to hold the line.
The blood-affinity Arcanist, the one who had spoken most confidently earlier, raised his hands once more. Crimson droplets swirled into needle-like shards. They rained down in a vicious storm aimed at Zahra.
Zohran intercepted with a roar, hurling himself into the air. His clone lunged the opposite way, splitting the deadly volley. Even so, half a dozen of the crimson needles found his flesh. The jackal howled in pain, and landed heavily, sabers crossed, his breath ragged but his eyes blazing with pure fury.
"Still angry?" Nasir muttered grimly, deflecting a wave of searing frost with a magma wall angled like a shield.
Zohran only growled in reply, saliva and blood dripping between his fangs.
The fight showed no sign of ending soon. Pillars of stone kept bursting upward, smashing spell trajectories and forcing the invaders to scatter—but there were too many, and the Maghreb trio’s coordination was stretched thin.
Zahra staggered, clutching her side, her illusions flickering.
Nasir’s magma armor was cracking, each shatter exposing parts of his regular armour, or even his skin and blood, to the harsh sun.
Zohran bled openly, every breath deeper and heavier, yet still pressing forward with a madness that left even his allies wary.
The eight Arcanists circled, their spells glowing in a deadly rainbow of affinities. They weren’t laughing anymore.
They recognised they were winning, but also that a single death on either side would shift the entire situation. Unfortunately, it would be much easier for one of them to randomly end up dead, then for the same to happen to these powerful warlords they were ganging up on...
Meanwhile, as these third-rankers duked it out, the siege continued raging on. Some had noticed the battle in the middle of their city, but since the attackers never stopped coming, they didn’t have time to worry about it.
Especially the leader of the battle, high up on a tower, roared through his communication sigil for everyone to stay focused. More than anyone, he could oversee the entire situation and knew how dire things would become if these regular troops made it inside the walls.
Meanwhile, none dared think about why the attackers didn’t simply flood the city through that portal, for fear of calling that situation into existence...
So, the siege raged on two fronts. It was a fragile stalemate, which could be easily upset by any change to the equation.
And that change soon came...